


A Home Beneath the Stars

by CheshireMoon



Series: Stars of the Heart [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Astronomer!Castiel, Brain Damage, Castiel/Dean Winchester Angst, Character Death, Christmas Fluff, College, Coma, Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hospitalization, Human Castiel, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Oblivious Castiel/Dean Winchester, Romance, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Ticklish!Dean, Tragedy, Triggers, sexy animal print, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 71,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireMoon/pseuds/CheshireMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU- Castiel Novak is a young aspiring astronomy major, living on his own, far from his family for the first time. His life is a solitary one, that is, until he happens upon a man who will change it all. Meet Dean Winchester, who has, due to certain circumstances, found himself living on the streets, forced to beg for food, money, and the occasional odd job. Castiel decides to bring Dean to his apartment, giving him a chance at a single moment of comfort and safety. A friendship sparks between the two; will this lead to something other than just a one night act of charity?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Angels on a Rainy Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RexxieConverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RexxieConverse/gifts).



> This is a birthday gift to my "bond-mate," [Cackling] She'll get that when she reads it.  
> But otherwise I'm really excited about this fic and where it's gonna go.

**April**

Rain.  Dean could remember a time when he liked the rain, a time when he’d have willingly run out into a storm just to simply feel its caress on his skin.  It was easy to remember a time when he had rejoiced at the silky drops slicking his skin, soaking his clothes and saturating his hair. Now, however, rain meant a desperate scrabble to find someplace dry to sleep for the evening.  If a dry haven couldn’t be found, then rain meant a long, cold night full of violent shivering and little rest.  It meant clothes that clung to his skin and refused passage to any sort of warmth.  Dean consoled himself with the thought that at least the rain made him partially clean...

The idea of making his way to one of the homeless shelters in the city often occurred to him, but whenever he contemplated it, his pride continually won out.  He had already sacrificed enough of his dignity sitting out with his measly sign, asking for money or work or food.  It was downright embarrassing, having to beg just so he could manage to scrape up his next meal.  It was far more preferable for him to find a small, dark corner to curl up in, where Dean could wallow in his cold misery alone, without being surrounded by the stinking bodies of  his fellow companions of the vagabond predicament.

His thoughts were flickering to and fro aimlessly between the beautiful memory of his old love of rain to his last tattered bits of pride.  He sat leaning against a wall, his cardboard sign propped up against his knee.  Dean tried to keep his expression as blank as possible, refusing to try and doe-eye someone into taking pity on him.  Times were desperate, but he refused to sink that low.

Dean was used to being on the receiving end of glares and looks of general disgust.  People tended to have a certain sense of superiority, especially when it came to someone in as low a position as the “homeless.”  A shiver of dislike worked its way up the man’s spine.  “Homeless.”  The word got under his skin in the worst kind of way, and he couldn’t even explain to himself why it did.

* * *

 

“Where did I put that book?”  Castiel murmured to himself, rifling through his canvas messenger bag as he hunted for his copy of _Little Women._   He’d gotten a lot of grief over the years for it being his favourite book, especially from his elder brothers Gabriel and Michael, but he couldn’t help himself; the story of the four March sisters had helped to guide Castiel through some of the more trying times in his few years of life.

A small, satisfied noise escaped him as his fingers finally found the well-worn book at the bottom of his bag.  Pulling it out gingerly, Castiel brought the little novel to his chest, a tiny smile alighting on his lips.  He set it aside just long enough to reorganise his messenger bag and grab his tan trenchcoat out of the closet.  He pulled it on, snapping the collar a bit as he did so, smoothing down the lapels and looking down appreciatively at the old thing.  The coat was yet another silly indulgence of his, another that he got grief for, but Castiel didn’t mind.  It was comfortable, softened by many uses and washes, and, if he was being honest with himself, he _did_ like the little swish at the hem when he turned abruptly.

Tucking the book into an inside pocket of the coat, Cas set out for a walk in the brisk April Alaskan air.

* * *

 

“Son of a bitch!”  Dean muttered darkly as he turned his eyes towards the sky.  Fat, heavy raindrops were starting to fall, leaving little patches of wetness on the pavement and on his clothes.  He almost jumped to his feet to gather his few meager belongings and run for somewhere dry, but for once, he simply couldn’t be bothered.  He had slept poorly the night before and now exhaustion and hunger pangs drove spikes of fatigue through his limbs.  Dean dropped his head into his aching hands, staring between his fingers at the unforgiving ground between his legs, an unnerving feeling of despair washing over him.  No matter how menial the job, no matter how hard he tried to clean himself up in an attempt to find _anything_ that would offer him even a meager salary, Dean continually came up empty.  He was always hungry, he was always cold and he was always alone. He couldn’t bring himself to bother Sammy, no matter how many times the thought had crossed his mind.

“Are you alright?”  Dean jerked his head up in surprise at the deep, gravelly baritone that suddenly sounded from above him.  Surely no one was talking to _him_.  A set of feet were in front of the befuddled man, however, and as he slowly raised his gaze from the ground, he found a shockingly blue pair of eyes looking down at him, obvious concern written all over their surface.  The man’s eyes didn’t flit from Dean to his sign and then back again, gaining distrust and disgust during their short journey, as most did in this circumstance.  His eyes remained fixedly on Dean.  When he didn’t answer for a few long seconds, the strange, blue-eyed man cocked his head to the side.

“Sir?”  Castiel prompted him. Dean cleared his throat, trying to suppress the shivers that were beginning to wrack his body.

“I’m alright.”  The odd man’s eyes immediately seemed disbelieving.  Dean found that he couldn’t quite hold the stranger’s gaze for much longer.  It had been entirely too long since he’d last seen someone look at him with even a hint of concern.  It was disconcerting, and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.

“You should probably get out of the rain,” Dean mumbled, suddenly aware that the stranger was allowing himself to get fairly drenched by standing there in front of him and his little square of pavement.

“What about you?  Aren’t you cold?”  Dean tried desperately to suppress the shivers that were slowly building, his eyes flitting back to the other man’s.  There was a pause, and then Castiel crouched down in front of Dean, coming to eye level with him.  His gaze was searching, though Dean couldn’t figure out for the life of him what it was that the man was trying to get from his face.

“You are cold.  And you are hungry.  And just a few moments ago, I saw you looking as though you were on the verge of giving up on the world.”  Castiel stood carefully and promptly held out his hand.  “Do not ask me why, but I want to help you.”  Dean stared up at his self-proclaimed saviour incredulously, instantly assuming it was a cruel joke.  After a moment of searching, however, he was shocked to find only intense sincerity in the man’s eyes.  A smile slipped easily on to Castiel’s full lips, the nature of the smile being gentle and concerned.  Before another thought could slip by, Dean suddenly found his hand being taken without his permission.  He was pulled to his feet before he could think to say a word.

“Hey! What are you doing?”  His voice was rough from lack of use, but it still managed to rise above the din of the rain, though it came out as a pathetic version of the shout he once would have been able to muster.  Castiel didn’t even flinch at the weak outburst.  He simply leaned over, still gripping Dean’s hand, and picked up the ratty backpack Dean had left on the ground.

“I’m not going to let you stay out here and get drenched.”  Castiel started pulling the bewildered Dean along behind him, earning odd glances from passersby.  Dean followed without a word, silently cursing his hunger-twisted stomach, his chattering teeth and the almost unbearable odour wafting off of him. 

It was odd to feel the warm touch of another person.  It had been so long since he’d touched anyone in any way, and although the man tugging him along was a perfect stranger, Dean couldn’t help but find it something of a comfort.  The rain continued to fall, though thankfully it was just a drizzle rather than a full-out downpour.

“What’s your name?”  The sudden intrusion of the man’s voice startled Dean out of his thoughts.  His tone was conversational, despite the odd situation.

“Dean,” came Dean’s simple, gruff reply.  He was still wary of the stranger, despite his obvious sincerity in his wish to be of help.

“Hello, Dean.  My name is Castiel.”  Dean’s eyebrows shot up a little at the unusual name, but he didn’t comment on it. 

“Why are you helping me? Who are you?”  The question burst from his lips before he could think about it.  He didn’t want to sound rude, but at the same time he still had a shred of self-preservation left, and that shred was nagging him for more information.  Castiel glanced over his shoulder.

“I am an Angel of the Lord.”  The line was delivered so deadpan that Dean nearly stopped in his tracks, but Castiel couldn’t keep a straight face for long, and soon cracked a small grin.  Dean almost, _almost_ found himself smiling along with the man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my first fic! I Do hope you like it! If you want to get in contact with me ever, you can find me @ sammylied.tumblr.com


	2. To Be Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deanie Weanie, you oblivious assbutt~

**Later That Day**

Dean stood awkwardly, glancing around the neatly kempt apartment, terrified of getting something dirty.  Castiel was slipping off his trench coat to hang up, taking a tattered book out of an inner pocket.  He set the novel on the coffee table, hung the trench coat up on the doorknob of the foyer closet and turned to Dean, appraising him with a silent intensity. 

“I am guessing the first thing you will want to do is shower, yes?”  Dean remained frozen for a few moments more before finally jerking himself into motion, nodding his head vigorously.  He was on edge. He hadn’t been inside a proper home for what seemed like an eternity. 

On the surface, Castiel’s apartment seemed neat and orderly, but after taking a closer look at the details, Dean started to see that there was a certain sort of chaos masked as order.  There were neat stacks of books scattered everywhere.  A somewhat messy pile of papers presented itself on the coffee table, a couple pens tossed haphazardly atop them.  Castiel’s shoes had been kicked off right beside the door, the left one having fallen on its side.  There was a black sweater draped across the back of the couch and pair of reading glasses on the end table next to the arm of the sofa.

“Alright.  Hold on, I will get you some clean clothes.”  Dean flinched back at the suggestion, expecting there to be a biting edge to the words, a hint of disgust at the very least, but he was again surprised by the blunt honesty and sincerity of Castiel. 

“Okay.” Dean forced his voice to work again, wincing a little as the word scraped itself out of his throat roughly.  Castiel offered another small smile before heading to his bedroom.  A few nagging worries chased themselves around his head as he left the man alone, but something in his green eyes had seemed trustworthy.  It was stupid of him, he knew that.  The man could do any number of things, wreak havoc upon his little place, and yet Castiel didn’t think he would.  He couldn’t explain it, but there’d been something oddly trustworthy in Dean’s green eyes.  Cas simply couldn’t envision anything bad occurring.

“Stop it, Castiel,” he murmured to himself as he pawed through his drawers for an old t-shirt, a pair of sweats and clean boxers.  He stacked the folded clothes on top of each other carefully, closed his drawers and made his way back out to the living room.  Dean still stood rooted to the exact spot Cas had left him at, his eyes wandering the apartment curiously. 

“The bathroom is the first door on the right, just down the hall.  Everything you need should be in there.”  The poor man jumped a little when Cas spoke, though he tried to play it off as just a little twitch.  There was an awkward stretch of silence, and finally Castiel stepped forward and pressed the clothes into Dean’s hands. 

“If you want to shave, you’ll find what you need on the counter.”  Dean stared down at the clothes in his hands, his lips pursed together as if he were in deep ponderment.

“Thanks.”  Castiel barely heard the word, it was so soft, and he couldn’t help but let another half-smile invade his face.  Dean walked slowly past him to the bathroom, half expecting it still to be a joke, or even a rare pleasant dream.  He glanced back at Castiel, but the other man had already disappeared into the kitchen.

Gently closing the door behind him, Dean set the pile of clothing on the counter of the small bathroom and immediately started to strip out of his filthy, wet clothes.  It was good to peel away the sweat and dirt coated things and toss them aside.  When he stepped into the shower, Dean turned the water to almost straight hot.  The pounding water on his cold, clammy skin was something of a shock, but soon he relaxed into the piping hot water, letting it wash away not only the dirt but some of the quivering tension in his muscles as well.

He took his time, scrubbing every inch of himself thoroughly, unsure when again he’d be able to indulge in such a luxury that a hot shower had become.  Dean was quite sure he’d only be allowed to stay one night, if he was allowed to stay at all.  He tilted his head back, closed his eyes and let the water splash across his face.  The shower was helping him to feel human again.  _“No matter how long I’m here for, at least I get that much time off the damn street,”_ Dean thought to himself.  He rolled his shoulders and tried to force himself to relax again, letting the hot water pound across his shoulders and back. 

He stepped out of the shower finally, drying himself off with a folded towel laying on the counter.  It felt like a fluffy sort of heaven to him, and he practically melted with gratitude for both the softness and for the warmth that had finally settled into his bones.  Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d been properly warm.  The old clothes, when he finally slipped into them, were a little too big for him, particularly the shirt.  He looked down at the overly large t-shirt curiously.  Castiel was a little shorter than him, but the tee was still quite a bit too long.  He stood stock-still for a few moments, marvelling at the feeling of wearing clean clothes, a true novelty for one in his predicament.

As soon as he’d heard the bathroom door close, Castiel had started cooking.  He hadn’t been grocery shopping just yet, but he did have the ingredients for spaghetti, so he hoped Dean would be alright with it.  He set a pan of water on to boil and dug up the box of spaghetti noodles and the jar of sauce.  The sauce was easy enough, it just needed to heat up a bit so he could adjust the spices.  He flitted back and forth in the kitchen, humming lightly to himself as he worked, the sleeves of his sweater rolled up to his elbows.

His concerns about having the stranger in the house had been assuaged by the look of raw gratitude that he’d seen on Dean’s face when he’d taken the clothes.  Cas couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since someone had shown him any kindness.  If his reactions were anything to go by, Cas would have to guess that it had been a considerable amount of time.  He’d yet to figure out why he’d dragged a random homeless man back to his apartment, though he did know it must have had to do with the hopeless expression Dean had been wearing when Castiel had found him as he let the rain fall down on him, soaking the man to the bone.  The scene had put a crack in Castiel’s heart; walking by Dean had been completely out of the question.

He let these thoughts have free reign of his mind as he prepared the early dinner, his hands working almost mechanically.  Eventually, Castiel heard the bathroom door open.  Curious to see the man cleaned up and groomed,  Cas peeked his head out of the kitchen.  Dean walked slowly into the living room, gingerly holding his old clothes away from his body.  Castiel’s eyebrows rose slowly at the site of him.  The scruffy beard was gone, leaving behind a sharp, smooth, strong jawline.  Dean was pale, his cheekbones standing out in sharp relief, his cheeks made gaunt by too many skipped meals.  And yet, his features were still extremely handsome, not to be overshadowed by the marks of his current lifestyle.  Deep green eyes met Castiel’s intensely blue ones, and, for a moment, Cas forgot himself.

“Thank you.”  Dean’s voice was a little more clear, gruff still, but in a more natural manner.  Cas mentally shook himself and smiled, stepping forward to take Dean’s dirty clothes.

“Of course, of course.  I’ll wash these for you.  I hope you like spaghetti, it will be ready soon.”  Cas spoke as he grabbed the clothes, going to the tiny laundry closet in the hall, putting them in to wash.  Starting up the machine, he bustled back to the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “You don’t have to stand there, you know.  You can sit on the couch.  Flip the TV on if you want.”  Dean watched as Cas slipped into the kitchen, continuing to hover hesitantly for a few moments before making his way to the well-worn sofa.  It was bliss to sink into it, curling his knees up to his chest and staring straight ahead.  Even if he had to leave after they’d eaten, Dean couldn’t help but feel an enormous swell of gratitude that actually brought tears to his eyes.

The tears surprised him more than anything that had happened that day.  Despite everything, he hadn’t cried once since he’d been on the streets.  He let them slip down his cheeks, carving their way down his gaunt face.  _“Knock it off, you sissy.  Yeah, someone did something nice for you, suck it up.”_   Castiel found him like this, but patiently waited to make his presence known until Dean had gingerly wiped the tears from his face and had composed himself.  “Food’s done, Dean,” Cas announced quietly. Dean started, whipping his head around quickly to look at the man behind him.  “Damn.  You need a bell, man.”  Cas gave an apologetic smile, a little spark of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I guess you could say I have never been so good with the ‘personal space’ thing.”  Dean nodded, silently agreeing to himself, and started to stand, but Cas held out a hand to halt the movement.  “Go ahead and sit.  I will bring your bowl out to you.”  Dean settled back into his seat and watched Castiel disappear back into the kitchen.  There was a clinking of bowls and forks as Cas served both of them up.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Cas called out, surprising Dean, who almost instinctively refused. 

 _“Relax, Dean,”_ he thought to himself.  The thought of actually asking him for something as simple as a drink was unexpectedly difficult.  He took a quick, deep breath before calling out, “Just water, please.”  It felt odd to talk after so many days and nights of pure silence, but at the same time, it felt nice, even if he was barely saying anything at all.  He thought about it for a moment, trying to remember when exactly it was that he’d last spoken to another human being.  A frown tugged down at the corners of his lips as the memory returned to him.  The last words he’d spoken had been a lie.  The landlord of the apartment he’d had to leave due to his inability to pay rent had asked Dean if he had somewhere safe to go.  Dean had looked him in the eyes, smiled and told him he had a place to stay.  That night had been the first he’d spent on the street.

Castiel returned to the living room with a large glass of water and a bowlful of spaghetti.  The smell of the food hit Dean quite suddenly and his stomach wrenched painfully with hunger, making an awful noise that reverberated through the room.  Cas stopped dead in his tracks, blinking slowly and tilting his head curiously, his eyes darting to Dean.  They held each other’s gazes for a few seconds.  Castiel’s lips twitched, and it set both of them off into deep peels of laughter.  It almost hurt the muscles in Dean’s face for his lips to stretch into a smile. The sound of his own laughter was foreign, but it felt good.

Cas set the glass down on a coaster on the table and handed the bowl and fork to Dean.  “I’ll be just a moment.”  He disappeared into the kitchen again, returning with his own bowl of spaghetti and another glass of water.  Dean waited patiently for Cas to settle on the opposite end of the couch from him, restraining his urge to wildly dig into his food.  He was once again clinging to his few scraps of pride and dignity.  Castiel had been kind enough to bring him into his home, let him shower and to feed him.  Dean simply refused to make himself look like a savage.

Castiel curled into his corner of the couch, shifting until he was comfortable.  He eyed Dean quietly as he dug into his own meal.  He half-expected the man to shovel the food into his mouth desperately, but he ate civilly, though he kept his eyes studiously down.  Silence fell between them, and since Dean wouldn’t look at him, Cas took the time to examine him further.  Now that he was closer, he could more easily see Dean’s features.  A smattering of freckles were spread across his cheeks, standing out against the pale skin of his face.  He couldn’t be sure how he’d missed them before.

Cas cleared his throat, forcing his eyes back to his spaghetti.  “I thought that I would sleep on the couch, Dean, and you can have my bed tonight.”  Dean whipped his head up from his food and an immediate rejection of the proposal rose to his lips, but Cas stopped him, “Please don’t argue.”   Dean looked very much on the verge of arguing, his brows pulling together sharply.  Castiel fixed him with an intense half-glare.  “You are my guest and I insist that, for at least tonight, you take the better accommodations.”  His voice was firm, his blue eyes capturing Dean until he finally let out a light sigh and nodded in agreement.

“Fine, alright.  If you insist.”  Cas instantly relaxed, but was a little confused.  He’d expected much more of a fight.  “I am not going to complain, but I honestly thought you would argue more.”  Dean looked up from his food again and shrugged slightly.

“I didn’t think you’d actually let me win the argument, and rather than causing a problem, I figured it would be easier to agree.”  Cas nodded slowly, and returned to his meal.  Dean watched him eat his pasta for a few moments before trying to make a stab at conversation himself.

“So, you live by yourself?”  He mentally berated his himself for the ridiculous question.  It was obvious the man lived by himself.  No one else was present and there wasn’t a single scrap of evidence that would indicate another.  Castiel nodded amiably, smirking slightly.

“Yes, I do.”  Dean fell silent as he scrambled for another topic for conversation.

“Do you have any family, Dean?”  Castiel asked before he could come up with anything.  He’d turned his eyes back towards Dean, and now the concern from before had returned.  Dean bit the inside of his cheek sharply to keep his head on straight, shovelled another mouthful of spaghetti into his mouth and chewed slowly to give himself some time to think as to how to respond. 

“I’ve got a little brother,” he finally answered in a low voice.  A little shot of pain went through his chest as he thought of his brother.  He missed him desperately, but he was glad that Sam had been able to go away to college like he wanted.  He only hoped that Sam hadn’t tried to get in contact with him.  The last thing Dean wanted was for his baby brother to worry about him.  That was his job, to worry about Sammy, not the other way around.  Castiel tilted his head curiously again, and Dean noted that it seemed to be a habit of his.

“Your mother?  Father?”  Dean shook his head.

“My mom died when my brother and I were just kids.  And my dad, he’s--” Dean’s voice betrayed him and broke off slightly.  He cleared his throat, steadfastly avoiding Castiel’s eyes.  “Dad’s dead too.”  He felt a little bad for lying, but it was the easiest way to keep questions at bay.  He couldn’t handle answering those kinds of inquiries, not just then.   Cas seemed to sense how touchy the subject of Dean’s dad was, and he graciously left it alone.

“Where’s your brother?”  By then, both Dean and Castiel had finished their spaghetti, both bowls set aside on the table.  Dean’s knees had been drawn to his chest once again, his arms wound around them, as if he was protecting himself.  

“He’s in California, at Stanford.”  Cas managed to catch the fleeting smile that tugged at Dean’s lips.  His green eyes had softened slightly with fondness.

“What is he studying for?”  Cas asked curiously.

“He wants to be a lawyer.  I’ll be damned if he doesn’t turn out to be one of the best.  The kid is an absolute _genius_.”  The fond smile returned, the ghost of it remaining on Dean’s face.  Castiel liked when he smiled, even if it was only for a  fleeting moment.  Dean’s expression seemed distant and sad without the smile.  The more romantic part of Castiel’s mind wanted to think that Dean’s story was written across his face in a tragic language that he couldn’t read.  It didn’t keep him from searching through the freckles splashed over Dean’s pale cheeks, didn’t keep him from picking out the individual dark green specks in Dean’s forest eyes, as if somehow he could decipher it.

“Can... Can I go to bed?”  Dean asked hesitantly, his voice breaking Cas out of his reverie.  “I know it’s early, but I’m tired.” 

“Go ahead.  My room is at the very end of the hall.  The bed should already be made.”  Dean disentangled himself and started to stand.  He looked around the neat-but-not-neat apartment as if to memorise it, and then looked to Cas.  The raw gratitude from before rushed to the surface.

“Thank you again, Cas.”  Dean paused for a moment before continuing.  “Is that okay?  To call you Cas?”  Castiel nodded, smiling a little up at the odd, green-eyed man. 

“That is perfectly fine.”  Dean nodded before padding off down the hall.  Castiel watched him go until the door was closed behind him, then sagged back into the couch.  He sat staring at the blank TV screen for several long minutes, his thoughts foreign to him.  Releasing a light sigh, he reached for _Little Women_ lying on the table and gingerly opened it to the first page.

_"Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” grumbled Jo, lying on the rug..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am loving this so much.  
> I love feedback, please give me feedback!  
> I'll try to post new chapters as quickly as I can peel 'em out!


	3. In the Wings of an Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eggs with cheese and mushrooms <3

**Next Day**

When Dean woke, he was very bewildered.  His face was buried in a pillow, and he was wrapped in an all-encompassing warmth.  He laid there for a long time, not daring to open his eyes just quite yet.  He was sure it was a dream, that at any moment, the cold would creep back into his bones and he would find his clothes soaked all the way through.  Minutes passed, but he still found himself cloaked in warmth and comfort.  As awareness seeped into his mind, so too did the memories of the day before. 

Slowly, Dean opened his eyes and was met by the site of Castiel’s room.  He couldn’t bring himself to move just yet, so he turned and cocooned himself further into the still-warm blankets.  Squinting slightly, he looked across to the little red numbers of the digital clock on the nightstand.  9:17 a.m.  He blinked slowly, trying to remember a time when he’d last slept in so late, or slept in at all.  He kept his eyes trained on the digital numbers, watching lazily as each minute ticked by. Suddenly, without him noticing, it was 9:25.  Dean finally disentangled himself from the covers and pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.  He sat for a moment, contemplating the distinct lack of exhaustion.  It was so _strange._

Getting to his feet, he stretched until his muscles were quivering, then relaxed.  Padding his way out of the bedroom and down the hall, he paused as he reached the living room.  Castiel was still asleep on the couch, the book he’d pulled out of his trench coat the day before resting on his chest.  The man’s dark hair stood up at random, unruly angles.  He chuckled once to himself, muttering quietly, “Isn’t he just a little angel?” 

Dean watched his chest rise and fall for awhile, wondering what he should do.   He was very tempted to leave a note thanking Cas, then slip out to return to his little alley.  Dean didn’t want to be pushy, didn’t want to overstay his welcome. 

That was when he noticed that the bowls from the night before were still on the table, the spaghetti sauce having crusted at the edges overnight.  Taking one more look at Cas, Dean quietly tip-toed to the table, snagged the bowls, and went to the kitchen.  He, admittedly, was a little lost at first, as it had been a long time since he’d washed dishes, but he quickly got his wits about him.  He scrounged up a sponge, a dish towel to dry and the bottle of dish soap next to the sink, and prepared to clean up the kitchen as quietly as he could manage.

* * *

 

Cas woke to a cottonmouth from having fallen asleep with his mouth slightly open.  He blinked quickly and gently moved the book off his chest, noting his place before placing it down.  He remained in his awkward half-laying position, trying to allow himself time to wake up a little.  Once he had, Cas found himself confused.  He sniffed a couple of times.

“Eggs?”  He mumbled.  “Who is--?”  He cut himself off as memories of the night before and his guest flooded in.  When he blinked, he once again saw the imprint of vivid green and light tan freckles imprinted on the inside of his eyelids.  _Dean._   Was he cooking something?  He sniffed again, narrowing his eyes.  He wasn’t quite sure how, but the eggs smelled different from just regular scrambled eggs.  Which brought him back to the thought of Dean cooking.  It struck him as odd, but he was grateful, as his stomach gave a tiny growl. 

Cas sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders and stretching a bit.  After a moment, he called out, “Dean?” 

“Right behind you.”  Cas nearly came out of his skin at the sudden voice behind him.  Dean laughed low and short at his reaction.

“Just a little bit of payback for you sneaking up on me last night.” Castiel turned to look at him.  Dean had a plate in his hand, but he couldn’t quite see what was on it yet.  All he knew was that he smelt eggs and...something, though he couldn’t figure out what it was.  Dean’s expression was a little nervous, and he kept breaking eye contact with Castiel.

“I thought I’d make you breakfast, y’know, since you made me dinner last night.  I hope you like the eggs, I fixed them the way I used to for Sammy when he was a kid.”  It took Castiel’s brain a few groggy seconds to make the connection that “Sammy” must be the little brother Dean had talked about the night before.  He took the plate when it was offered to him, looking at the contents.  Cheese had been sprinkled on top until it had melted just so, and there were bits of mushrooms mixed into the eggs.  He took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of it.  Mushrooms and... garlic?  He blinked slowly.  Whatever the ingredient was, it was heavenly, and his mouth was certainly watering.  He tucked himself back into his little corner and took the first, hesitant bite of the dish.

Dean was satisfied to see Castiel’s eyes widen just a little, one corner of his lips curling up into a pleased half-smile.  He watched him eat, glad that he could still remember some of his rudimentary cooking skills, despite having not had the occasion to use them for a very long while.  He knew he’d need to leave soon, though.  If he remembered the days right, it was a Saturday.  Dean hated the idea of being in the way of Castiel’s weekend.  Quietly, he gathered his bag from where Cas had dropped it at the end of the sofa the night before.

“Well, uh...” He struggled for something proper to say.  Cas had turned his blue eyes onto him, wide with surprise, the fork halfway to his mouth again.  “I washed the dishes while you were asleep.  I’m glad you liked the eggs...” He trailed off, turning his eyes away as Cas put the fork down.  “Thank you again.  I really mean it.  I’m not sure why you decided to help me out, ‘cause you certainly didn’t have to--”

“Are you leaving?”  Castiel looked somewhat alarmed. 

“I was planning to, yes.  I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” Dean replied cautiously.  Cas set the plate on the coffee table, folding his hands in his lap, looking up at Dean. 

“Look, Dean.  I was thinking last night, after you’d gone to bed and... I’d like it if you’d stay here.  I can’t possibly let you go back out there to sleep in the cold and the rain, and admittedly, I enjoy having the company.”  Castiel smiled sincerely, but despite that Dean’s first reaction was to reject the idea.

“I couldn’t possibly.  I have no way to pay for me being here, I don’t know how I’d be able to find a job, I’d just get in the way.  I can’t just crash your pad, man.”  Dean’s voice was bordering on panicked, sputtering out each word quickly.  Castiel stood up somewhere in the middle of Dean’s little tirade, strode over to him, slipped the backpack off his shoulder and returned it to the floor by the sofa.

“I really must insist, Dean.  Besides, your clothes are still in the washing machine.”  Cas grinned a little lopsidedly, unsure if he would be able to convince Dean to stay.  A little crease formed between Dean’s eyebrows as he considered the somewhat commanding man before him.  He wanted desperately to stay, to have someplace to call home again, but he despised the idea of being a waste of space.  Castiel remained in front of him, somewhat between him and his bag.  He held the man’s eyes, slowly feeling his desire to stay winning out.

“Please stay, Dean,” Cas tried again.  Dean felt himself resign to it, his emotions a strange mix of excitement and fear.

“I’ll stay on a couple conditions.”  Castiel tilted his head to the side, waiting for him to continue.  “First, I sleep on the couch from now on.  I’m not okay with taking your bed.”  Dean earned a deep gravelly laugh at this.  “Second, you let me help out until I can get an actual job.  I’ll be your damn personal maid if that helps, I don’t care, but I’m not going to be one of those pathetic moochers, got it?”  Cas’s eyebrows perked at the “personal maid” comment, the corner of his lips twitching dangerously towards another smirk.

“Well, welcome home then, Dean.”  Castiel motioned dramatically around him at the smallish apartment.  To many it would seem like very little, but to Dean, it was absolute perfection.  He couldn’t have asked for a single thing to be different about it.  Dean rubbed the back of his head gently, a little emotionally overwhelmed but unwilling to show it. Castiel sat back down in his little corner of the couch, scooping up his plate of eggs off the table and immediately getting back to them.

“I might just be selfish and want to keep you because of these eggs, Dean.  I hope you don’t mind,” Cas quipped as he popped another forkful of eggs into his mouth.  Dean quirked an eyebrow up at the comment, but Cas simply shrugged.  “I’m guessing you already ate, since you’ve been up longer than me?”  Cas asked over his shoulder.

Dean glanced down at his feet, “No.”  He heard Cas turn towards him. 

"Why not?”

“I wanted to make you breakfast ‘cause you fed me, but I didn’t feel right taking some of _your_ food for myself,” Dean admitted after a moment.

“Well, it is now _our_ food. That is how the whole ‘roommates’ deal works.  Go make yourself breakfast.  You are too thin.”  Dean found himself surprised at how Castiel could manage to sound so amiable and even-toned, yet have his words be borderline authoritative.  Dean stared at the back of Castiel’s head for a moment, a few thousand thoughts running their course.  Such an odd man.

He shook himself a little and turned his attention away from Cas. Before he headed back to the kitchen to fix his own plate of eggs, Dean cast another quick glance around Castiel’s apartment, his new home, finally allowing a small, happy grin on to his face.

* * *

 

Soon enough, both men had finished breakfast, dishes had been rinsed and stacked, and they both were seated on their ends of the sofa again.  Dean found himself looking around at everything once more.  His eyes fell on the book that Castiel had set aside earlier.  He leaned forward slightly, reading the title aloud without quite meaning to, “Little Women?”  Cas jerked forward a little defensively, pulling the novel off the table and into his lap, expecting some sort of taunt.

“Yes, it is something of a weakness of mine.  It’s my favourite novel, actually,” he admitted a little bashfully, watching Dean for his reaction. 

“I don’t think I’ve heard of it before,” Dean replied, his voice curious.  Cas relaxed a little when the expected insulting taunt didn’t present itself. 

“It is a stunning novel, and the 1994 movie adaptation of it was just as equally spectacular.  I’ve gotten a lot of grief over the years for loving it so much, especially from my brothers,” Cas explained conversationally, still holding the book to his chest.

“You have brothers?”  Dean asked.

“Yes, Gabriel and Michael.  They’re both older than me. They’re in Fairbanks, where I come from.  Even with the many problems they gave me over the years, they never crossed that “brotherly” line with anything.”  He glanced down at the book in his arms at the end of his sentence.  “Though, I do have to admit that it irritated me the most when they made fun of me for the book.  You’d have thought they would have made fun of me more for being--”  He cut himself off abruptly, his fingers tightening around the book.

Dean watched him in confusion, trying to find the end of the sentence on his own.  Castiel tried to keep going like nothing had happened, “Of course, they teased me for wanting to study astronomy too, but it was all in good fun, and I got them back plenty of times.”  There was a slight hitch to his voice, as if he’d been upset. 

“Made fun of you for being what, Cas?”  Dean didn’t want to push, but he was curious.  Cas cleared his throat, a somewhat panicked look appearing.

“I suppose it would have come up eventually, and with things the way they are nowadays, I guess it is only polite to make sure you don’t mind.”  Cas ran his fingers along the spine of his book as he spoke.

“If you’re going to tell me you’re gay and try and ask me if I’m okay with that, then don’t bother,” Dean interjected suddenly.  “I’m not an asshole.  Well, not about that, anyway.”  Dean hadn’t interacted with people in a long time, but his old, odd social graces were starting to return.  He half-smiled and winked playfully, though he feared that perhaps he was trying too hard.  “Really, no big deal, man.”  Cas breathed a sigh of relief and returned his smile, glad to see Dean was starting to come out of the nervous shell he’d hidden in the night before. 

“That’s good.  I was graced with a particularly tolerant family, but I have learned my lesson about the real world being a lot less accepting,” Cas explained. 

“I have no problem as long as you don’t try and take advantage of me while I’m sleeping,” Dean retorted good-naturedly.

“Is that permission to take advantage of you when you’re awake?” Cas responded before he thought about what he was saying.  He actually brought a hand to his mouth, his eyes widening at his own words.  Dean, however, found the scene comical, particularly Castiel’s face, and ended up laughing at the entire fiasco.

They talked and joked, whittling away the afternoon with banter, each trying to get to know the other a little better.  Castiel was a little disgruntled to find Dean mostly closed off about his past, though it shouldn’t have surprised him.  Dean found out a little about Castiel’s obsession with the stars.  He found himself smiling along with his new roommate as Castiel’s passion for the subject lit him up from the inside while he talked on and on about stars and constellations and other astronomy-related things that Dean didn’t understand.

Dean mostly talked about Sammy, and Cas let him go on about the boy, enjoying the fond smile from before that would flit across Dean’s lips.  His eyes brightened, and it was almost like he forgot to be sad when he spoke about his genius little brother.  By the time evening rolled around, both men had begun to unconsciously move closer to each other, each leaned in just a little, both engrossed in the conversation.  _Little Women_ lay forgotten, the TV remained silent, and the rain that fell outside the apartment went completely unnoticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are lovely, lovely things, you should leave me some, let me know how I'm doing so far~


	4. A Knight In Shining Armour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funsie shopping times~

**Next Day**

“I thought you were joking yesterday!”  Dean grumbled from the passenger side of Castiel’s ‘67 Chevy Impala.  Cas had lured Dean out of the apartment to see the car when he learned that Dean had not lost his love for older muscle cars over the years.  Dean had quickly agreed when Cas had suggested going for a ride, and it was only after few minutes of listening to the engine purr that Dean seemed to realise that Cas had a set destination.  Cas told him, after much prodding, that they were going to the nearby shopping centre to buy Dean new clothes. 

“I am not sure what gave you the idea that I was making a joke, Dean.”  Cas responded smoothly from the driver’s seat, glancing over briefly at the somewhat disgruntled Dean.  “Technically, you are still wearing my clothes, and your old ones are too worn out for you to continue wearing, I am afraid.  Just let me do this.  Please?”  Cas looked over again, just in time to catch Dean’s gaze.  Along with his “please,” Cas had accidentally started to plead with his deep blues.  Dean couldn’t tell him no, he’d figured that out.  Castiel would get his way eventually, and it seemed easier to just allow him this one thing rather than to fight him about it.

“Alright,” he groaned after a minute.  “But not too much, okay?  I already owe you a lot.” 

A small, satisfied smile graced Castiel’s face when he responded, “I’m sure you’ll find ways to make these things up to me, Dean.”  Castiel’s passenger harumphed, then went quiet.  A comfortable silence fell, during which Dean stared out the window, watching as the streets of Anchorage passed him by in a blur.  It was strange for him to see them from within a car, instead of being out there, curled up against a wall, holding a sign, waiting for some sort of break.

Castiel watched Dean from the corner of his eyes, occasionally looking all the way over as well.  Dean had his distant and sad expression once more, and Cas desperately wanted to say something to make him smile, though he wasn’t sure what that would be.  He hated seeing the small downturn at the corners of Dean’s mouth.

“What are you thinking about, Dean?”  Cas asked suddenly, his inability to read Dean’s face finally frustrating him enough to make him say something aloud.  Dean continued to stare out the window for a moment before finally turning to look at Cas.

“What?”  He responded, the question not quite having registered with him.

“What are you thinking about?  You look so...”  Cas struggled for the right word. Sad didn’t seem quite right, yet it was the only word he could manage to dredge up.  “You just look so sad.”  He stopped himself before he said something about disliking Dean looking unhappy. 

“Oh.  Oh, don’t worry about it, Cas.  I’m fine.”  Dean forced a smile onto his face, but it didn’t fool Castiel.  The smile didn’t reach his green eyes, which remained dull and vaguely distant.

They pulled into the parking lot of the shopping centre a few minutes later, but Dean didn’t immediately get out when they were parked, like Cas had started to.  He sat staring ahead, his lips pursed, corners of his eyes crinkled with what appeared to be nervousness.

“Dean?”  Cas asked quietly, reaching across to touch Dean’s arm.  The other man glanced down at the hand on his forearm.

“I guess it’s just been awhile since I’ve been shopping.”  He laughed for a second, a humourless sound.  “And I guess it’s been awhile since I’ve been around other people without them looking at me like I’m trash.”  Cas flinched at the obviously bitter tone in Dean’s voice.

“You’re not trash, Dean,” Castiel murmured quietly.  “You are not trash,” he repeated a little louder, a little more firmly.  “Come on.  Everything will be fine.  I _promise_.”  Dean raised his eyes from Castiel’s hand on his arm, looking into his eyes, searching for the emotional handhold he needed.  Again, he found an intense sort of sincerity and kindness and a quiet sort of strength in Cas.  He drew in a deep breath, holding it for a moment, then released it in one slow gust.  By the end of it, he’d let a more natural looking smile slip onto his face.

“I’ll go if you promise to protect me,” he said, his tone playfully.  “People are awful, man.”  Cas chuckled happily, glad for the small change in his demeanor.

“Alright, yes.  I promise to protect you from the big, bad people.  What is the term?  I will be your knight in shining armour, yes?”  Cas responded with equal playfulness.

“Does that make me your damsel in distress?”  Dean asked, trying to keep a straight face, but failing entirely.

“Something like that.”

“Okay, okay.  Let’s go then, before I change my mind, _Sir_ Castiel,” Dean said, undoing his seatbelt and opening his door.  After realising he had left his hand on the man’s arm for more than he knew socially acceptable, especially during their little exchange, Cas pulled away from Dean hurriedly.  They both got out and Cas walked over to join his companion.

“Ready?”  Dean nodded, seeming to be just a tad more at ease.

They visited a few different stores, getting Dean several pairs of jeans, a few t-shirts, a number plaid button-ups and a couple sweaters.  Cas were sure to get everything bigger than Dean currently needed, for when he finally gained back his weight.  Cas kept his eye on Dean while they shopped, noting how skittish the man was around their fellow shoppers.  He avoided everyone’s eyes except Castiel’s, and flinched if someone said even the slightest passing remark to him.  It was hard to watch, and several times Cas found himself wondering yet again what had put Dean on the streets, what had given the world permission to strip him of his confidence.

Cas tried to liven things up with a joke or two here and there.  He’d find an absolutely atrocious or ridiculous shirt and offer it up to Dean enticingly.  The atrocities ranged from a hot pink tanktop that Dean barely agreed to try on--and then refused to come out of the dressing room with--to an animal print tee with a diving v-neck.  Dean seemed to forget his nerves during these little escapades, and Castiel was glad for it. 

The men were about to check out from the last store when Cas noticed Dean’s eyes lingering on something across the shop.  He followed the line of sight until he found a lone, worn, brown leather jacket on a rack across from them.  The expression on Dean’s face was one of fond nostalgia.  It tugged at Castiel’s heart, and he suddenly surged forward, plucking the jacket off of its rack and quickly returning to Dean, whose lips were already forming the word, “No.”

“Yes.  Don’t pretend you don’t want it,” Cas immediately countered.

“Doesn’t matter.  It has to be stupidly expensive and I agreed to let you get me clothes, but this is too much!”  The store clerk was watching them from behind the counter curiously.

“Then we will call it a gift!  Something to celebrate your having moved in with me.”  Dean tried to snatch the jacket away, but Cas moved it from his grasp swiftly.  Dean tried to go for it again, but Cas did a somewhat ungraceful little half-spin to evade him, nearly tripping over his own feet.   He quickly made his way  back to the counter, slamming the jacket down in front of the clerk, using his body to block Dean from getting to it.

“This too, please,” Cas told her, fighting a smile.  Dean shoved his way in beside him.

“No, not that too.”  The clerk looked between the two of them, a smile slowly growing on her face.

“Well, boys, who has the card here?”  In response, Castiel pulled his card out of his wallet. 

“That settles it, then.”  The woman laughed and started to ring the items up.  Dean glared at Cas half-heartedly, but Cas just returned with a bright, crooked smile.

“You two are just adorable.  How long have you been together?”  The clerk asked conversationally.  Cas’s expression froze and a deep warmth spread from his neck up into his cheeks, turning his entire face red.  Dean’s nerves had kicked back in at that moment and Cas was forced to scrabble for an answer.

“O-oh, no.  We’re not--we’re not together.”  The girl paused, looking surprised.

“Oh!  You two act like it, I’m so sorry!”  She apologised quickly.  Castiel nodded, willing the spontaneous blush to go away quickly, hoping that Dean hadn’t noticed his involuntary reaction.  The clerk finished ringing them up and bid them a good day as the two men headed back out to the Impala.  Before Dean could get into the car, Cas pulled the jacket out of its bag and tossed it to him.

“Try it on. Looks like it should fit perfectly.”  Dean wanted to berate and glare at him, but instead he found himself slipping the jacket on.  The familiar smell of leather wafted up to him, a thousand pleasant memories surfacing in his mind. The jacket was almost perfect, just a touch on the larger end.  Castiel stepped forward, adjusting it about until it hung on him just so.

“It will be perfect once you fill out, which should happen soon enough.”  He moved back a bit, and as he admired the jacket, he realised just how thin Dean was.  He didn’t comment on it, however.

“Are you hungry, Dean?  I could go for lunch.”  Dean nodded mutely, tucking his hands into the pockets of the jacket.

They found their way to a small, quiet diner, and both men ordered a simple burger and fries.  Dean’s stomach still twisted with anticipation at the smell of food, as if it would be the last he would have for awhile.  They ate in silence for a bit, each absorbed in their own thoughts.  Cas subtly watched Dean much of the time, having to shake himself a little when he caught himself staring as Dean licked a bit of salt off one of his fingers.  The silence allowed Dean’s mind to wander back over their day.  He suppressed a couple smiles at some of the recollections, which caused him to grow curious about something.

“Hey Cas, can I ask something?”  Castiel’s eyes flicked up from his plate. He finished chewing the fries he’d just slipped into his mouth before nodding for Dean to go on.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want, but where’d you get all the money to get clothes for me?  It couldn’t have been cheap.”  A small, knowing smile slipped onto Castiel’s face at the question.

“My family is... rather wealthy.  My parents are paying for my education, and they gave me a fairly hefty savings account on top of that.”  He laughed a bit, looking a little embarrassed. 

“I’m surprised you’re not living it up in a bigger, fancier apartment,” Dean remarked.

“I have never really been one for fancy accommodations.  It had been just me, after all, so I didn’t see the purpose in getting a bigger apartment than I needed.”  He paused for a moment and then tacked on, “I’m sorry about that now.”

“Why are you apologising?”  Dean tilted his head in a rather Castiel-eque way, doing so without really realising it.

“My apartment is too small now, and you have to sleep on the couch.”  Dean raised his eyebrows incredulously.

“You’re apologising for not being able to know that you’d eventually make the insane decision to take in a stranger off the street?”  Castiel started to laugh.

“Yes, yes I suppose I am.”  Dean shook his head slightly and popped a couple more fries in his mouth.

“You’re odd, Castiel.”

* * *

 

“Alright, my number is over here by the base for the home phone in case you need to get ahold of me tomorrow,” Cas said as he straightened from jotting his cell number down.  “You seem to be fairly familiar with the kitchen, so you won’t starve.  My home is your home now, so feel free to do whatever you want.”  He crossed his arms, staring at the floor thoughtfully. 

“Cas.  You’ve got a little mother-hen complex going on over there...” Dean mumbled through a bit of laugher.  Castiel glanced up at him and smiled a little. 

“I am sorry.  I have never had a roommate before, and I do not really spend much time with people.  I suppose you could say that my people skills are somewhat rusty.” 

“Don’t worry about it, man.  I think I can manage not to hurt myself while you’re at school.”  Cas smiled and plopped down onto the couch beside Dean, snatching _Little Women_ off the table.  Dean watched him quietly, his eyes following as Cas flipped the pages.  His thoughts drifted away gently, and slowly, his eyes slipped closed until he’d drifted to sleep there on his end of the couch.  Cas read for awhile longer, but as soon as he noticed that Dean had slipped off to sleep, he gently put the book down and stood.  Before he turned the living room lights off, locking the front door and heading to bed, he snagged a blanket off the floor and gently draped it across the sleeping man. 

“Good night, Dean,” he whispered, though he knew Dean couldn’t hear him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D'awww, isn't he a little angel?


	5. Mending the Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having fun writing this~  
> I just hope you don't find it boring ;~;  
> (Go Sammy, go!)

**May**

The next couple of weeks passed quite peacefully.  Cas would get up early and head off to his classes at UAA, and if Dean wasn’t already awake by the time he left, he woke shortly after.  He’d do the dishes left from the night before and tidy anything else that seemed like it needed his attention.  He did feel something like a personal maid, though Castiel never asked him to do any of the work he ended up doing around the apartment.

Otherwise, he would flip on the TV, either to find something to watch or simply to have the background noise.  He looked through Castiel’s books, occasionally pulling one down to read.  He started to slowly make his way through Cas’s movie collection.  He flipped through Castiel’s CD’s, surprised by the sheer variety of music that he found.  He found everything from classical music, which was honestly what he could most easily imagine his roommate listening to, to alternative and classic rock. 

Dean worked his way through all of Castiel’s classic rock first and foremost, sometimes just sprawling across the couch and simply listening to the melodies.  It was comfortable to just lay down and listen to music and know that he was safe and dry and warm.  The worst parts of those weeks was when he woke in the middle of the night, shivering and sweating, his heart pounding as he expected to find himself in a decrypt nameless alley.  It happened most nights. 

When Cas came home, they’d talk for awhile, or sit in a companionable silence while Castiel studied.  They switched off cooking duties.  The nights were always peaceful.  Castiel worried about leaving Dean on his own for the first few days, but when all went smoothly, he let himself fall into the rhythm they were slowly building. He enjoyed spending time with Dean, even if it didn’t amount to much.  Far more often than he liked, Cas would catch himself simply staring at Dean, studying his expressions, his eyes, his freckles, everything.  Dean caught him once as he happened to glance away from the TV, and Cas couldn’t hide the horrid blush that spread across his cheeks.  He diverted his eyes as quickly as possible and buried his nose in his book, but he couldn’t block out the chuckles of Dean from beside him. 

“I must be awfully pretty for you to be staring like that, Cas,” Dean quipped, his tone edged with amusement and mischief.  Cas tried to ignore him, further burying his nose in his book, accidentally reading the same line twice over.  He could feel Dean’s eyes on him, but he refused to look up again, his skin crawling with embarrassment at having been caught.

“Cas?”  Dean asked one of those quiet nights, startling Castiel out of his studies. 

“Yes, Dean?”  He was relieved that Dean was finally speaking.  He’d spent the evening staring blankly at the floor, a crease between his eyebrows as if deeply in thought.

“I was wondering... Can I use the phone to--”  Dean’s words caught in his throat momentarily.  “To call Sammy?”  Cas pushed his work away from him.

“Of course, Dean.  Do you know his number?” 

“Yeah I do.  I’ve got the kid’s number memorised.  It’s just that I’d been on the streets for awhile... I hope he didn’t try and get in contact with me.  I’d hate for Sammy to be worried.” 

Cas nodded, standing and going to the house phone.  He picked it up off the base and brought the handset to Dean.  He was about to sit next to him, but decided to head towards his bedroom to give Dean some privacy.  Dean watched him go before hesitantly turning his attention to the phone.  His hands were shaking, his finger poised above the buttons.  _“Don’t be a baby.  It’s just Sammy.”_   He took a deep breath and then slowly dialed the familiar number, one that had been burned into his mind.

Putting the phone to his ear, he waited, holding his breath.  The other end rang several times, and just as he thought it was going to go to voicemail, a familiar voice answered, “Hello?”  Dean’s breath caught in his throat.  It had been so long since he’d heard the kid’s voice.

“Hello?”  Sam repeated.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean finally said, shakily.  There was a heavy pause on the other end for a few long seconds.

“Dean?” 

“Yeah, Sammy, it’s me.”  A strangled sound of surprise came across the receiver. 

“Dean!  Where have you been?  I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for weeks now, I’ve been completely out of my mind here, man!”  Tears pricked at the corners of Dean’s eyes, but he blinked quickly to keep them from falling. 

Castiel sat just a little bit down the hall, close enough that he could hear.  He knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop, it was incredibly rude, but some part of him couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, I know.  I guess I have some stuff to tell you, Sammy.”

“Damn right you do, Dean! Where the hell have you been?” Sam demanded.  He was speaking loud enough that Cas could practically hear every word he was saying.

“I lost my job a bit after I sent you the money for college.  I’d ended up selling most of my stuff to add to the savings.  I wanted to make sure that you had enough.  I tried to get another job, but I couldn’t get one in time... I missed one too many rent payments and I had to leave the apartment I’d been staying in.”  Dean scratched the back of his head, closing his eyes against the memories.  “Look Sammy, don’t overreact, but I uh--” He paused, holding the phone just a bit away from his ear, expecting Sam to yell, “I’ve been living on the streets for a couple months now.”  Rather than a shout, as he’d expected, all Dean got was silence.

Cas shifted himself a bit closer to the living room, listening.  His lips were pursed and he was staring at the floor.  _“So he gave everything he had to his little brother for college.  That’s why he was homeless.”_ Cas thought to himself. He couldn’t help but wonder, again, what had given the world the right to ungracefully strip the poor man down so completely.

“On the streets, Dean?”  Sam finally said, his voice hushed and pained.

“Yeah.  It was pretty great, I guess.  No one to tell me to pick up my socks, no one to tell me to put down the toilet seat.  Probably because I didn’t really have either of those things, but hey!”  Dean tried to make a joke of it, but he could tell immediately that it fell flat.

“Why didn’t you get ahold of me, Dean?  I could have done something.  On the streets, my _god_.”  Dean sat forward, rubbing his forehead lightly.

“I didn’t want you to worry about me, Sammy.  It’s my job to worry about my little brother, not the other way around.  You know that.”  Dean tried to put a smile into his voice, but Sam just sighed.

“Wait.  You’re calling me, so does that mean that you found someplace to stay?”  Cas was practically in the living room by this point, but still just out of Dean’s line of sight.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I’ve found a place to stay,” Dean answered gruffly.

“Where?” 

“I’m staying with someone named Castiel.  He practically plucked me off the sidewalk.” His voice grew thick, grateful thoughts of Cas welling up in him.  “Dragged me to his apartment, let me shower, gave me clean clothes to wear, cooked me some food.  God, Sammy, he made _spaghett_ i, and I hadn’t eaten anything fresh and hot in...” Dean trailed off.  Sam didn’t need to know the details of his difficulties.  “He let me stay the night.  I was going to leave in the morning, but he asked me if I wanted to stay with him.  Couldn’t exactly tell him no.”  Dean paused, settling himself back into his corner of the couch.  “I don’t think the guy will ever realise how grateful I am to him.”

Cas smiled to himself at the words. 

“I’m glad, Dean.  God, I’ve been so worried about you.”  Pure relief oozed through the receiver.

“It is so good to hear your voice, Sammy.  I’ve missed you like crazy, kid.  How is school going?”  Dean was desperate to change the subject.  He despised the idea of Sam worrying about him, even in small amounts.  He relaxed slightly as Sam, after some reluctance, started to talk about things at school.  He gave a large smile when Sam talked about a girl he’d been dating, a girl named Jess, and laughed at a few odd little stories Sammy told him. 

Cas remained at his spot in the hallway, his head leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, listening to the low rumble of Dean’s voice.  He sounded more at ease than he’d been since he started living with Cas, and it loosened a small knot of tension in the middle of Castiel’s belly.

There was a lull in the conversation for a brief moment, and Cas was surprised to suddenly hear his name.  “Who?  Cas?”  Pause.  “He’s... He’s been so good to me, Sammy.  I don’t get why he took me in, and I haven’t exactly asked him, but...”  Dean trailed off, and Cas could just barely hear Sam say something that made Dean laugh a little.  “Hey, I don’t know about that.  I’ve only been here a couple of weeks, Sam.  But, yeah, he’s going to college here at UAA, studying astronomy and physics.  Everyone’s a freaking genius except me, I swear.  I’m good with cars, that’s about it.”  Castiel had perked up again, a small smile twitching at his lips as he listened. 

“I’m going to be honest.  I’d forgotten that people could be, y’know, _kind_.  People walked by me every day, didn’t give two craps about sad, disgusting guy taking up their sidewalk, but suddenly this stranger waltzes up to me with this trench coat on, looks down at me with these insanely blue eyes and starts acting like he cares.  Thought it was a joke at first, until he was suddenly dragging me back to his apartment.”  Castiel had to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing out loud.

“Well, I need to get going, Dean.  I’ve got some pretty big tests tomorrow and I haven’t really finished studying for them,” Sam finally said after a little bit more idle talk, though his tone was obviously reluctant.  “You take care of yourself, alright?  And let Castiel take care of you too, since it seems like he’s trying his best as well.  Don’t be an ass about it.”  Dean laughed a little bit.

“I will, you too. And you take care of that Jess!  She sounds like a keeper,” Dean told him teasingly.

“I will, don’t worry.”  Dean could hear the smile in his brother’s voice.  “Can I get ahold of you at this number again?”  Sam asked.

“Yeah, this is Cas’s house phone, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you wanted to call me here” 

“You don’t be a stranger either, alright?  I’ve missed you like hell.  Don’t be afraid to call, alright Dean?” 

“Okay, okay, kid,” Dean said with a laugh.  “I’ll talk to you later, alright?”  

“Right.  Bye Dean.”  Sam was the first to hang up.  Dean held the phone to his ear a few seconds after the connection had cut off.  Cas very carefully stood up and crept into the living room behind him.  He caught a glimpse of Dean’s face. He looked content.

“You gave up everything you had to send him to college?”  The question popped out of his mouth before Castiel could stop himself.  He just as good as admitted he’d been eavesdropping.  Dean started a little, turning to look at Cas.  Fortunately, he didn’t look upset.

“Yeah, I did.  I didn’t exactly plan to put myself on the streets, but hey.”  He shrugged, sagging back into his corner completely.  “God.  It was so good to hear the kid’s voice.  It sounds like he’s doing great down there in Cali.”  Dean’s voice sounded less like he was talking to Castiel and more like he was simply talking aloud.  His eyes were distant, but his expression was still blissfully happy.  Cas watched him, a smile of his own sitting on his lips.  He wanted to sit down and talk to Dean, or turn on the television and just spend time with him, but with an audible sigh, he returned to his school work.  His pen seemed heavy, and the words on the page seemed almost illegible at first, but soon he became absorbed again.  At least absorbed enough to be startled when Dean finally spoke again.           

“Hey Cas?” 

“Yes, Dean?”  Castiel answered after a moment.

“Can you help me get my license again?”  He sounded a little nervous, a little unsure.  “And maybe you can help me look for a job?  It’s been a few weeks now, and I’m used to being a human being again, so...”  He trailed off, still nervous but a little hopeful at the same time.  A warm glow spread through Castiel’s chest at the simple request.

“Yes, of course I’ll help you, Dean,” Cas answered quickly.  Dean smiled dazzlingly and once again, Castiel’s work was forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews? Let me know how I'm doing? Suggestions? I crave them like I crave chocolate. (And that's sayin' somethin'!)


	6. A Driving, Swirling Constellation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeeeeeeeere's Sammy!

**Next Saturday**

“I’ll be ready to go in just a minute, Dean,” Cas called down the hall as he finished slipping a shirt over his head.  Dean flopped onto the couch, excitement and nervousness fighting for dominance in his stomach.  He looked down at the very nearly expired license in his hands, grateful that he had kept it in his bag this whole time.  Trying to get his license without it would have been more trouble than he was ready to deal with just then. 

Castiel came up behind him, leaning on the back of the sofa and looking at the picture on the front of the little piece of plastic.  The Dean in the picture was still a little more filled out than his Dean-- _“He is not yours, Castiel.”_ He silently berated himself.  He reached across and gently slipped the license out of Dean’s fingers to distract himself from the thought.  The picture-Dean was smiling, but the smile didn’t quite reach his green eyes.  It was obviously forced for the picture, it being nothing when compared to the smile Cas had begun to see more and more, the one that lit up Dean’s face, the one that showed all of the dark flecks in his green eyes.

“You did not look very happy,” he remarked.

“I wasn’t.  It was a bad time.”  Dean’s voice caught a little, but he tried to cover it by turning to look up at Cas.  “How about this.  I’ll try to look happy in the one I get today, but only if you promise to tell me some geeky astronomy joke.”  Cas raised his eyebrows slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, resisting the urge to ask about why that time had been bad for him.

“I’m sure I can think of something stupid enough to make you laugh,” Cas responded, already trying to formulate the perfect joke.  He went to the closet to grab his faithful trench coat, but stopped in surprise as his phone rang.

Dean glanced over, “You got it?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Cas answered, his brow furrowing in confusion.  He rarely ever got calls.  Perhaps it was Sam, calling for Dean.  He threw the coat over the back of the couch and went to grab the phone from its base.

“Hello?”  He asked when he answered. 

“Is this Castiel?”  The voice on the other end asked.

“Yes?”

“Hey, this is Sam.  Dean’s brother?”

“Oh.  Hello, do you wan--”

Sam cut him off before he could finish, “Hold on, hold on.  I wanted to talk to you.”  Cas tried to hide the surprise on his face, turning and pacing down the hallway a bit.

“Oh, alright.  What can I do for you?” 

“Look, I told my professors there’s been a... family emergency.  I’ve gotten my work and notes for the next week and I’m due to hop on a plane to Anchorage early tomorrow morning.  I want to surprise Dean.”  Cas was glad that he’d headed down the hall so Dean couldn’t see him, because a huge grin had split across his face.

“That is great!”  He exclaimed as quietly as he could manage.

“I was hoping I could get your help.  Tomorrow’s Sunday, so you’ll be home, right?”  Sam asked, the excitement obvious in his tone.  Castiel’s pacing led him back out into the living room, where Dean was watching him curiously.  Cas shrugged his shoulders and gave a slight smile.

“Yes,” he answered blandly so as not to give anything away or arouse suspicion.

“Great!  So, can I get your address so I can come by right after I arrive?  Not sure exactly when I’ll be there, but it should be late afternoon or early evening.”  Cas made his way back towards his bedroom, slipping in silently and moving to the other side of the room.  His voice was soft as he slowly told Sam the address of the apartment, checking behind him to make sure Dean had stayed in the living room.

“Thank you so much, Castiel.  I can’t wait to see him, I’m so psyched.”  Cas found himself grinning again, excited about the planned surprise. 

“He is going to be so excited,” Cas whispered before he walked back out into the hall.  “Sounds like a good plan, we’ll definitely work on it,” he said at a normal speaking tone, glancing over at Dean and smiling, holding up a hand and mouthing, “One more minute.”

“Well, I’ve still got some packing to do, so I need to get going.  Thank you, Castiel.  I’ll see you tomorrow.  It’ll be good to meet you.”

“Yes, you as well.  I will see you soon,” Cas responded vaguely before he hung up.  He shared another secret smile with himself before turning to Dean.

“I am sorry about that.  An acquaintance of mine and I are working together on a project.  We need to meet up sometime this week about it.”  Dean nodded.  He had slipped his leather jacket on while Cas was on the phone.

“Ready to go then, man?”  Dean asked, going to the door.

“Yes, let’s go.”

* * *

 

The wait at the DMV would have been painful if Dean had been alone, so he was incredibly grateful that Castiel had decided to stay with him.  He kept his old license in his hand, turning it over in his hand again and again, almost without realising what he was doing.  Castiel could see it out of the corner of his eye, and finally he reached over and placed his hand on Dean’s wrist, causing the other man to look up suddenly at him.  Dean released his lip from between his teeth where he had been worrying it.  It took everything Cas had not to reach forward and wipe the blood away from the small cut that had appeared.

“You are bleeding, Dean,” he quietly mumbled instead, indicating his own lip to show Dean where he meant.  Dean’s tongue flicked out to wipe away the blood and Cas turned his eyes away for a moment.

“Do not be so nervous, you will be fine.”  He gripped his friend’s wrist and returned his gaze to Dean.  Dean searched Castiel’s bright eyes again, latching onto the quiet strength he always found, letting the warmth of it flood into him. 

They chatted idly after that, until Dean’s number was called.  He put on a brave face and gave Cas a quick grin.  Cas handed him the cash he needed to pay for the renewal and ushered him forward, giving him a double thumbs up.  Dean hurried forward to the counter.  The woman waiting for him smiled kindly.

Cas watched from his seat as Dean dealt with what he needed to, handing over the cash and answering the questions.  A fond smile played over his lips.  When it came time for Dean to get his picture taken for the new license, Cas stood quickly and came as close as he could to the picture taking area.  A couple people looked at him oddly, as did a couple of the employees behind the counter. 

He waited until just before the photographer snapped the picture, then called out the most ridiculous astronomy joke he could think of.  “Dean!  What does the solar system use to hold its pants up!”  He paused for a moment, watching the confusion flicker across Dean’s face.  The photographer paused a moment, as if waiting for the answer as well.  “An asteroid belt!”  Dean let out a loud groan at the joke, but just as quickly broke out into a huge grin, a few chuckles slipping out as well.  The photographer laughingly took his picture. 

Cas went to wait with Dean, who was still laughing quietly.  “That has got to be the stupidest joke I have ever heard, Cas.”  Castiel shrugged lightly.

“You wanted an astronomy joke and that was the only one I could think of,” Cas said offhandedly, fighting to keep a smile off his face as he attempted to act nonchalant.  He was jittery, excited for Sam’s arrival and excited that Dean was finally gaining back a piece of himself.

When Dean finally received the license and Cas gave his approval of the large smile he had in the picture, Dean was allowed to drive the Impala back to the apartment to celebrate his newest step towards “being human again,” as he continued to put it.  Cas couldn’t keep his eyes from trailing back to the driver of the Impala, relishing in the satisfied, beauteous expression on Dean’s face as he took the longest route possible back to the apartment.

* * *

 

Cas was on edge all day Sunday, but he did a fair job of hiding it from Dean.  They spent the morning watching odd little documentaries on the History channel after a breakfast of homemade french toast, prepared by Cas himself.  Dean was in a good mood already, left over from the day before.  Occasionally, he would pull out his brand new license and just look at it with a small, satisfied grin.  As the day past and the channel changed and everything settled in like any other lazy Sunday, both Dean and Cas relaxed and Sam’s imminent arrival slipped Castiel’s mind. And so Cas nearly let out a yelp of surprise when there was a sudden knock on the door.  Dean had slipped off to the bathroom only moments before, and Cas let a huge smile slide onto his face.

When he opened the door, his smile slipped just slightly as he was confronted with a moose of a man.  Sam stood well above him and Cas was forced to look up at him, actually taking a step back. 

“Castiel?”  Cas nodded, his smile returning in full force.  He ushered Sam in quickly, shoving him and his suitcase towards the kitchen. 

“He’s in the bathroom, get in the kitchen quickly, before he comes back!”  Cas hissed at him.  Sam nodded to him and silently set his bag down in the kitchen and waited, just out of site.  Castiel hurried back to the couch, flopping down into his corner just in time, settling in and trying to not look excited.

“Did someone knock on the door, Cas?”  Dean called as he came out of the bathroom.  Cas looked over his shoulder, suppressing his smile quickly. 

“No, I don’t think so.  Could you do me a favour and get me a glass of water while you’re up?”  The request was delivered innocently enough.  Dean chuckled a bit.

“Lazy today, huh Cas?”  He stopped to stretch a moment before heading to the kitchen.  Cas stood immediately so he could see the man’s reaction.  Dean stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes going wide, his jaw dropping open.

“Sammy!?”  He cried, rushing forward to embrace his giant of a little brother.

“Hey Dean,” Sam responded, his voice hitching as he crushed Dean in a hug.  Actual tears escaped Dean’s eyes, sliding silently down his face. 

“What are you doing here, Sammy? You have school!”  His tone was almost reproving.  Cas crossed his arms, standing off to the side, smiling at the reunited brothers.  The two of them finally pulled apart.  Cas laughed silently to himself at Dean’s “big brother” behaviour.

“I told my professors there was a family emergency and got all the notes for the next week.  I had to come see you, I had to.”  Sam pushed his hair out of his face, but it stubbornly flopped right back down.  Cas noted the subtle similarities between the two brothers.  Sam was handsome as well, but just not in the same way as Dean.  The freckles were missing, and Sam’s eyes were hazel, as well as there being a difference in height. Dean was a good bit taller than Cas, and Sam even taller than Dean, so Cas felt fairly like a midget when compared to the other two.

“Aw, man.  It is _so_ damn good to see you, kid!”  Dean exclaimed.  Everything about him was lit up, inside and out.  Everything  from his smile to his general bearing was glowing with unadulterated excitement.

“It’s good to see you too, Dean.  I’ve missed you.”  Sam finally looked past his brother to Cas, who was still off to the side, watching the two of them contently.  “You must be Castiel.  It’s good to meet you.”  Sam stepped forward and offered his hand and a smile.  Cas shook the hand that was offered to him, giving a smile in return.  His cheeks almost hurt from all the smiling he’d done in the past few minutes.  “Thank you for helping my brother.  I know he can be a stubborn ass about accepting help sometimes, but thank you.  So much.”  Gratitude glimmered in Sam’s hazel eyes. 

“It has been my pleasure.  It started as a random impulse, and now I have gained myself a good roommate and great friend,” Cas answered, glancing over at Dean, feeling himself warm slightly at the cheeks with good thoughts of his friend. 

“So that call yesterday was--?” Dean started to ask, motioning towards his brother.

“Yes, that was Sam, calling to ask for the address of the apartment,” Cas responded with a low chuckle.

“Aw, man. Cas, c’mere!”  Dean rushed forward and swept Cas into a hug, catching him off guard and leaving him a little breathless and disarmed.  He returned the embrace tightly, trying to ignore the blush that was slowly creeping into his cheeks.  He met Sam’s eyes over Dean’s shoulder, and he swore there was a knowing glint in them as he crossed his arms and grinned.

“Thanks Cas.  Really, you have no idea how much I appreciate _everything_.”  Cas was smiling like a school girl who’d been complimented by her crush, but he really couldn’t help it.

“It was nothing, Dean.  Are the two of you hungry? I thought that perhaps we could go out for an early dinner,” Cas suggested, disentangling himself from Dean before he could embarrass himself any further. 

“I could go for dinner, yeah.  We gotta go somewhere with pie though,” Sam responded, shrugging out of his jacket and folding it on top of his suitcase. 

“Pie?”  Cas asked, causing Dean to chuckle as Castiel did his characteristic confused head tilt, once again reminding Dean of a puppy.  A puppy with the biggest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen, but a puppy nonetheless.

“Hasn’t my brother told you about his obsession with pie?”  Sam exclaimed, surprise evident in his voice.

“It is not an _obsession_ , Sammy!”  Dean argued playfully, shoving his brother’s shoulder. 

“Alright, you two.  My apartment is not that big, no fighting,” Cas said over his shoulder as he retrieved his trench coat.  The boys just laughed and Cas shook his head slightly, buzzing with a happiness that had been distinctly absent until Dean had slipped into his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys so much, sososososo much <3


	7. An All-Consuming Dark Matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got pretty emotional writing this scene. I hope I did the emotions behind this scene justice. Let me know?

**Later That Week**

Cas glanced out at the living room to see if Dean was still asleep, which he was.  He and Sam were in the kitchen cooking dinner.  Sam had offered to help since Cas had spent all day at school, able to sympathise with how it felt to be bone-crushingly tired after a long day of classes.  Castiel had offered to let Sam stay at the apartment rather than making him rent out a hotel room, and after a little persuading, Sam had agreed.  They’d both been surprised when Dean had passed out on the couch late into the afternoon, but neither had the heart to wake him.  Cas had gently settled a blanket over him and turned the television off, letting him sleep until dinner was ready.

Cas was scouring the pantry for a box of fettuccini noodles for the fettuccini alfredo they were planning to fix when Sam suddenly asked, “Has Dean seemed alright to you the past few days?  I’ve been watching him, and he’s seemed happy, but...?”  The question seemed odd, and Cas turned to look at Sam questioningly.

“He has seemed fine to me.  Why do you ask?”  Sam’s expression turned dark, his eyes turning down sadly. 

“I’m guessing he hasn’t told you,” Sam muttered, setting a pan on the stove for Cas.  “What exactly _has_ he told you about our family, Cas?”  He watched Castiel’s expression, trying to gauge how much he knew and was surprised when he found nothing, just a blank, confused face.  He sighed.

“He told me that your mother died when you were both young and that your father had died as well, though he seemed more reluctant to talk about that.”  Sam’s jaw clenched, working slowly as if in deep thought.

“I thought he might have told you more than that.”  Sam mumbled after a moment.  “I think you need to know, because as happy as he seems currently, I think he’s going to go downhill very soon.  I wish I could stay until Monday, but I could only manage to get a week to come out here...” He trailed off, looking trouble and Cas found himself increasingly alarmed.

“Why?  What is Monday?  Why would Dean ‘go downhill?’”  The questions popped out quickly, one by one, almost running over each other, concern for his friend overflowing.  Sam got the same knowing look that he’d had when he had first arrived, but now there was a distinctly sad edge to it.

“He didn’t mention Adam?” 

“Adam?”  Cas asked slowly, tilting his head.

“Yeah, Adam.  He was our younger brother.”  Sam’s voice was cautious and he paused a moment to check on Dean, but he was still asleep on the couch.  Castiel’s heart momentarily stuttered at the phrasing of the sentence. 

“Was?” 

“Yes, was.  Our mom died in a house fire when Dean and I were kids, but Dad remarried a couple years later.  Kate wasn’t our mom, and she never tried to replace mom, but she was really good to us nonetheless.  Not long after Dad and Kate were married, they had Adam.”  There was a small but sad smile on Sam’s lips as he spoke.  He was leaning against the counter as Cas dealt with cooking the chicken for the alfredo.  “We were both excited about having another brother, especially Dean.  He’s always taken the ‘big brother’ role very seriously, with both me and Adam.”  The story seemed happy enough so far, but it just made Cas more fearful as to what was to come.  “We found out that Kate had a malignant brain tumour when I was fourteen.  Adam was twelve, Dean was eighteen.  It was hard on all of us, especially Dad, but we all tried to stay positive.  The doctors kept telling us that they could help her but,” Sam paused, shrugging, his lips pressed tightly together for a moment.  “But they couldn’t.  She died, and so did part of Dad.  He started to drink.  Not just your normal ‘drink a little to forget your worries.’  He would come home from the bar so drunk that he could barely see, screaming or crying, depending on the night.”  Sam had to pause to take a deep breath, blinking rapidly to stay his tears. 

“Dean took care of us then.  He’d cook dinner, he kept the house clean, and he hid us in his room when Dad came home in one of his drunk rages.  He did a good job of it.  He never complained, not even when Dad took swings at him.”  He shook his head slowly, his eyes distant.  “Then, one night, I was staying at a buddy’s house.  Dean went out to the store to get some stuff, figuring he could get home before Dad.  Well, Dad came home early, and Adam was alone.  It was one of the angry nights, and he was worse than usual.”  Sam swallowed hard, tears pooling in his eyes no matter how many times he tried to blink them away.  Cas wanted to tell him to stop, to not force himself to remember, but he was paralysed, barely able to continue caring for the food.

“Adam didn’t know what to do.  Dad got angry at him for something, I guess, started knocking him around.  Adam tried to hide and call Dean, but Dad found him before he could tell Dean what was going on.”  Cas ran a hand through his already messy hair, his chest tightening at the story.  Both Sam and Cas jumped at Dean’s sudden voice.

“All I heard was Adam yelling for me and Dad screaming at him to ‘shut the fuck up.’”  Dean’s voice was soft, his face still slack with sleep.  He wasn’t looking at Cas or Sam, he was just staring straight ahead, through everything, suddenly overcome with memories.  He’d been trying to push everything down, tried to enjoy his brother being there, tried to just enjoy Castiel’s company, but he had been losing the battle anyway.  And Cas needed to know.

“I got home as quick as I could, but by the time I got there, he’d beaten Adam so badly I couldn’t even recognise the kid.  The police showed up not long after me.  Dad was unconscious by the time they got there, I made damn sure of that.”  Dean’s eyes closed and tears slipped down his face.  “They took Adam to the hospital, but it was too late.  Dad had broken a few of his ribs when he was tossing and kicking him around.  He had a punctured lung, cracked skull, fractured leg and several broken fingers.  He slipped into a coma for awhile before he just... stopped.”  Dean struggled for a moment but couldn’t bring himself to say the word “died.” 

“Monday will be four years.”  Dean’s voice had gone hollow, and the silence that followed was heavy and suffocating, interrupted only by the sound of the chicken sizzling and the water beginning to bubble for the pasta.  Cas was stricken, trying and failing to imagine what it must be like to have to go through that.  Dean stood there for another couple of minutes, his eyes glazed over, but finally made his way back to the living room.  Sam peeked out at him, watching as he hunkered down on the couch once more.  Sam hoped that he would go back to sleep, perhaps forget having gotten up and hearing the conversation. 

Cas turned to look at Sam, his expression desperate.  He wanted to say something, wanted to have some sort of magic words that would somehow ease whatever pain remained from the tragedy, but he was speechless.  His words had been snatched from him.

“You don’t have to say anything, Cas,” Sam said softly.  “Dean takes it especially hard.  He blames himself for Adam dying.  I thought...”  Sam closed his eyes.  “I thought I was going to lose him right after.  Things got so messy with Dad being arrested, and at first we weren’t sure where I’d end up.  Dean pulled himself together enough to get custody of me so we wouldn’t be separated, but after that... he checked out.  He didn’t eat, didn’t drink, and when he actually was up and about, he was just a zombie.  He cried so hard that it terrified me sometimes.”  He opened his eyes to look at Cas, almost smiling at him.  “No matter what, though, he made sure to take care of me.  He kept food in the house, he made dinner, everything.  He started to come back to me eventually, but it was slow.  I didn’t fully get my brother back until shortly before I left for California.” 

“And I suppose it wasn’t long after that he lost his apartment,” Cas said thoughtfully.  Sam watched the shorter man’s face.  Castiel’s expression was thoughtful yet somber. His brows were pulled together and his blue eyes didn’t seem as bright as their usual glimmer.

“I can’t take care of him from California, as much as he’d hate to hear me say that.  You’ll take care of him, right Cas?”  Sam asked.  There was a pleading edge to his voice, and Cas immediately nodded.

“Of course, Sam.  Of course I’ll take care of him.  He deserves it.  He deserves so much more...” Cas trailed off, clearing his throat, suddenly overly conscious of his words.  Sam examined him, taking in the slight flush on his cheeks and the fond expression on his face that was always present as he spoke about Dean.

“You love him.”  It wasn’t posed as a question, it was a statement; a statement of pure fact, as it so happened.  Castiel tried to hide his face by straining the pasta, turning his back on Sam, who took in his slightly hunched shoulders.

“W-well, Sam.  Dean has become very d-dear to me, and--”  Sam put a hand on his shoulder to stop him, and when Cas turned to look up at him, Sam was smiling. 

“It’s alright, Cas.  I’m glad, it is good to know that someone else cares about him.”  Cas smiled back at him bashfully and Sam nudged his shoulder gently. 

“Not like you were exactly subtle about it, man.  You’re lucky my brother is ridiculously oblivious, Cas.  _I_ almost blushed at some of the looks you’ve given him since I’ve been here.”  The joke made Cas laugh and lighten up a little bit.  The atmosphere was still heavy with Sam’s story, but it was slowly lessening.  A lull fell in Sam and Castiel’s conversation as Cas finished up the pasta.  Cas couldn’t quit worrying about his friend, about how he would be as they approached the upcoming Monday.  He knew that he wanted to be there for Dean, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to accomplish that.  There were times when Dean still seemed so distant to him.  Cas had never had to deal much with grief in his lifetime, so learning to help someone else with their grief remained a foreign concept to him.

“There are bowls in that cupboard,” Cas pointed it out to Sam, “Will you please get them down for us, and the silverware is in that drawer,” he pointed it out, “I will go wake Dean for dinner.”  Sam nodded and went about the rummaging while Cas made his way out to the living room.  Dean had fallen back asleep on the couch.  He was laying on his back with his legs stretched out, arms folded over his stomach.  Cas leaned over the back of the couch, looking down at him.  He looked younger and far less distant and troubled while he slept. Cas took a moment to memorise the innocence of his face, for it was not the most common of sights.

“Dean.  Hey, Dean,” Cas finally said, reaching down to shake Dean’s shoulder lightly.  “Food is done, Dean.”  His eyes slipped open slowly, immediately finding Castiel’s face above him.  In the moments before he was fully awake, he forgot about his memories of Adam and simply focused on the intense blue of Castiel’s eyes looming above him. It was blissfully submerging, while it lasted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who is reading/has read, I love you all <3


	8. An Angel's Hymn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My bondmate provided for me the song that I put in this, wanted it to be a canon song. (I'm still working on completely, completely catching up)  
> Apparently it hits people right in 9x06 feels.  
> I'm so, so sorry.

**The Weekend**

The rest of the week passed in a fairly peaceful manner.  Dean and Sam spent the days just being brothers and spending the time together, and when Cas got home they’d all do something together.  A couple times they just watched movies after dinner was cooked.  Cas managed to get Dean and Sam to watch _Little Women_ , and, though he pretended to be fairly indifferent to it, Dean found himself enjoying the story of the March sisters immensely.  He refused to admit it in front of his brother, but he planned to talk about the story more with Cas when he got a chance. 

Adam was frequently on his mind, the approaching anniversary weighing heavily on him.  Sam had told him over and over that Adam’s death wasn’t his fault, but no matter how much he heard the comforts, he kept the feeling of the weight of responsibility.  He should have known better than to leave the kid alone.  He should have taken Adam with him to the store, or he should have gone out earlier in the day.  He caught himself thinking all of this a few times over and tried to force the thoughts out of his head.

The last two nights that Sam was with them, Cas took the pair of them out to the same diner they’d had dinner at the first night Sam had arrived.  Dean had declared the pie “too damn good to cheat on,” and that just decided it.  Dinner was a lively thing, laughing and talking and getting fond smiles from the waitresses, who came over often to ask how they were doing.  Sam continued to watch his brother.  He saw how Dean’s gaze got distant and how his face became drawn with barely noticeable  inner pain, but he didn’t say anything.  Things seemed less severe this year, and he was hopeful that maybe Dean would be able to pull himself out of his continual rut of guilt.

Castiel decided right away that he was very fond of Sam, and when it came time to take him back to the airport early Sunday morning, he told him so, welcoming him to come visit whenever he could manage.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay, Castiel.”  Sam stepped forward and embraced the shorter man tightly, very nearly lifting him off his feet.  Cas laughed at the moose-sized boy-yet-man, wriggling slightly to get out of the crushing hug.  “Take care of him for me.  He needs you, maybe even more than he needs me right now,” Sam muttered into Castiel’s ear.  Cas nodded after a moment, and then wiggled a bit more, his ribs complaining against the crushing embrace.  Sam chuckled and let him go, rumpled Castiel’s already messy black hair, and then turned to his brother, who was standing back, watching his little brother with barely concealed affection.

“C’mere Dean,” Sam exclaimed as he hurried forward and swept his brother up in a hug even more energetic than the one he’d given Cas.  “You let Cas take care of you, okay?  He’s so good for you, I don’t think you see how much,” Sam whispered in his ear seriously, trying to impress upon him the true weight of his words, trying to get him to understand how much he needed Dean to allow himself to be taken care of for once.  Dean pressed his lips together tightly, hating that he was on the verge of tears again.  Dean hated to cry, no matter the reason, no matter how little it was. 

“I’ll try, man,” he mumbled back when he could manage the words.  Sam let him go and smiled, leaning down to grab his suitcase.  An announcement that his flight was boarding sounded above him, and he took a deep breath and leveled Dean with a firm look. 

“Promise me.” 

“I--” Dean seemed to struggle with it, and Cas watched curiously.  “I promise.”  Sam nodded and reluctantly turned to go board his plane.  Cas and Dean watched until he disappeared through the door for the plane and then returned home.  Dean was silent the entire drive back.  Cas kept glancing over at him worriedly, alarmed by the sudden change in countenance.  The next day was the anniversary of Adam’s death.  Castiel could only guess that the weight of it was finally beginning to crash down on him.  He could see it in the slump of his shoulders and the distance of his eyes. 

Without thinking, Cas reached over and took Dean’s hand, giving it a light squeeze.  It brought Dean’s eyes up to Castiel’s, who tried his best to push all of his strength into Dean.  He wanted so much for Dean to be okay, but knew that it was unlikely.  He just wished he knew how to help him.  Dean didn’t draw his hand away, appreciating the touch until Cas had to pull his hand away so he could drive.

* * *

 

Monday started with a nightmare.

_The door opened but Dean couldn’t pass the threshold.  All he could do was look in.  There was blood. Blood on the couch.  Blood on the wall.  Blood on the counters.  Blood on the television.  The carpet was saturated with it, and Adam was laying in the middle of everything.  John was standing over him, a hideous leer deforming his face into something barely human. Demonic.  Dean opened his mouth to scream for Adam as he tried to wrench his body into motion, but his limbs simply refused to move.  Adam’s head slowly turned towards him, his face disfigured, bloody and bruised._

_“Dean! Help me, please, Dean help me!” Adam screamed out, reaching a hand out towards him.  The fingers were bent and misshapen, blood running in rivulets down his arm.  “Dean!”  Dean opened his mouth to answer him, but no sound came out.  John turned to look at him and Dean expected him to laugh or gloat, but he just stared, with blank, jet-black eyes.  He stared Dean down as Dean kept trying to push himself to move forward.  The light in Adam’s eyes was quickly fading, but what was left was quickly turning to an accusation that burned through Dean._

_“Why didn’t you save me, Dean?”  The question pierced Dean, going straight through him and leaving a hole.  “Why didn’t you save me Dean!”  The question reverberates throughout the house, tearing holes through everything, dissolving the image of John, dissolving everything to just a river of blood and screaming accusations, just leaving Dean and Adam’s broken corpse._

Cas woke to Dean’s desperate, hoarse yelling from the living room.  He was out of bed and down the hall before he could process any thoughts.  Dean was on the floor, thrashing and yelling out Adam’s name.  Castiel rushed to his side, dropping to his knees and grabbing Dean by the shoulders, shaking him.

“Dean! Dean, wake up!”  Castiel’s heart was in his throat, pounding uncomfortably hard.  Dean continued to thrash for a moment, but suddenly woke with a deep, gasping intake of air.  His eyes were wide open, searching the air above him as if expecting to see something else.

“Dean!”  Cas yelled, forcing Dean’s attention to him. 

“Cas?”  Dean asked quietly, his voice disjointed, broken and more vulnerable than Cas had ever heard him.  The sound tore at him, but he tried to hide it.

“Yes, it’s me, Dean.  I am right here, you are alright, I promise,” Cas mumbled, helping Dean back up onto the couch.  Dean slowly transitioned from panicked and out of sorts to somewhat shell-shocked, his face going blank and his eyes glazing over.  The emptiness scared Cas more than the yelling and thrashing had.  He, however, took a deep breath and started figuring out how to spend the day in a way that might possibly distract Dean.  He’d already decided against going to school.  Dean needed him too much, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“I do not believe that dwelling on thoughts of Adam is for the best today, Dean,” Cas said softly but firmly, gripping Dean’s shoulder and turning the man towards him.  Dean met his eyes, tilting his head slightly.  Cas could practically see the weight on his shoulders, but he was determined to lift it for him, at least enough for Dean to gain back his bearings and get out from beneath the weight himself.

“I’m not going to school today.”  Cas thought fast, examining Dean, who looked for all the world like a broken down, sad child.  Innocent and vulnerable, yet forced to bear an unbearingly heavy burden.  He made a snap decision and hoped it would work.  “So!  We are going to sit around all day and we are going to work our way through my collection of Disney movies.”  Cas nodded certainly, and Dean narrowed his eyes just slightly at the suggestion, some confusion breaking through his slack-jawed blank demeanour.  “It is what my mother and my brothers used to do with me when I got upset as a child.  We would spend a day watching Disney movies, and by the end of the day, I almost always felt at least a little better.” 

Without waiting for any sort of response, Cas got up and went to his movies, flicking through his Disney collection, trying to settle on which to watch.  He had grown up watching Disney movies, and it was the one “unmanly” thing about him that his brothers didn’t make fun of him for, seeing as they’d grown up the same way.  He had fond memories of being piled on top of Gabriel and Michael with their mother off to the side.  They’d all burst into song or quote various, memorable parts of the movie, and it was just part of the Novak household.  The boys’ father would join in occasionally, but seeing as he was always working or off at some conference, there were a lot of times when he simply wasn’t around. 

Cas finally decided on Mulan, wondering if he could get Dean to sing along with him, though he highly doubted it.  He took his time with putting the DVD in the player, and then took a seat next to Dean.  He finally looked at the time, finding himself mildly surprised to find that it was only a little after 5:00 a.m.  _“It doesn’t matter.  Dean won’t be sleeping, I’m sure, and I couldn’t get back to sleep if I tried.”_   Rather than sitting on the opposite side of the couch from Dean, he sat right beside him instead, curling his legs underneath him.  He glanced over, finding Dean’s eyes on the screen, which was somewhat hopeful.

Cas forced himself to relax and enjoy the movie, singing quietly along with all of the songs.  He was transported back to his childhood, and he was almost tempted to pull Dean down onto the floor with him to stretch out and act like children.  They’d forget any and all responsibilities and become ridiculously absorbed into each movie.  They’d sing along loudly with every song, and end up collapsing into laughter on top of each other at the other’s ridiculous voice.  They’d imitate the voices of the various characters.

The day wore on with Disney after Disney.  They started out with Mulan then moved on to Aladdin, watching both of its sequels.  Cas almost put in Lion King, but thought better of it, unsure if Mufasa’s death would be a sort of trigger for Dean.  After the Aladdins, they watched Fox & the Hound and Peter Pan.  It was evening before Cas knew it.  By the third Aladdin, Dean had started to become a little more animated, actually smiling a little at the jokes in the movies, which filled Cas with a lot of hope.  By the end of Peter Pan, Dean’s eyes weren’t distant anymore, and the weight on his shoulders seemed to have lifted somewhat, though he still seemed a little lost in his thoughts.

Cas leaned over and bumped Dean’s shoulder with his own, trying to catch his attention.  “Peter Pan is a classic.  It was always one of my favourites, back when I wished I never had to grow up.”  Dean momentarily lost the focus he’d gained back, and Cas was alarmed to see tears forming in the corners of Dean’s eyes. 

“Dean?  What is it?” 

“Adam.  Adam never grew up.  He’s always going to be a kid.”  Cas was horrified with himself.  He hadn’t thought about that when he had put Peter Pan on, but now he mentally berated himself.  Unsure what else to do, Cas leaned over again and wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist, pulling him close.  The tears had spilled over silently during the movement and Dean leaned into Castiel.

“Cas, I should have saved him...”  His voice was so soft Cas wouldn’t have heard it if he hadn’t been right beside him.  “I should have been there.  I should have saved him!  He shouldn’t have had to go through that.”  Dean’s voice was rising and breaking, and he was clinging to Cas as if he’d forgotten himself completely.  Cas stared down at him helplessly, hating to see him so broken.  He shifted positions so he could pull Dean into a proper embrace, holding him to his chest.

“Dean.  Dean, it was not your fault, you never could have known that your father would come home early.”  He knew he was just repeating things that Sam had probably told him a million times, but he wasn’t sure what else to say.  Dean dug his fingers into Castiel’s shirt, burying his face in the hollow of his shoulder.  Cas tightened his hold on him, pulling him as close as he needed to be.  He swore he could physically feel his heart breaking for his friend, and he felt choked by his utter powerlessness.  The sense of helplessness was only amplified when Dean started to sob.  The sounds started small, just tiny, choked noises that worked their way into Cas and started to break him up from the inside.  The noises gained volume, reverberating through Castiel’s chest, shaking him down to the core.  He had never dealt with such a grief before.  He couldn’t even begin to fathom what Dean was thinking, what he was feeling. 

 _“Look at what’s happening to me,”_ Cas started to sing, unsure why he suddenly remembered his old lullaby.  It drifted through his mind, the lyrics old and dusty, but still there.  _“I can’t believe it myself.  Suddenly I’m up on top of the world._ ”  He swore that Dean was slowly starting to calm down, his sobs becoming a little less severe.  _“Shoulda been somebody else.”_ The lyrics seemed appropriate.  It should be Sam there, holding onto his brother, but instead it was him.  _“Oh, believe it or not, I’m walkin’ on air.  I never thought I would feel so free-ee-ee.”_ Dean’s fingers were still tangled into the fabric of his shirt, his face was still burrowed in his shoulder.  His sobs were silent now, slowly subsiding.  _“Flying away on a wing and a prayer.  Who could it be?  Believe it or not, it’s just me.”_ Cas gently put a finger under Dean’s chin, tilting his face up to look at him. 

His eyes were red, his face splotchy and wet with tears, but he was looking at Cas.  Not _through_ him as he had that morning, but actually seeing him.  _“Believe it or not, it’s just me.”_   Cas sang the last line and tried to smile.  He leaned down and very gently rested his forehead on the top of Dean’s head.

“I am not your brother.  And I am sorry for that.  I could never hope to be there for you in the way that you need your brother, but I am here.  It’s just me, but I am trying my best,” Cas whispered.  Dean held his gaze, but exhaustion was starting to take him.  Having spent the entire day batting blame around inside his head while trying to pull himself together for Castiel’s sake had been enough, but losing it as he had was completely doing him in.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean murmured, his voice slurring as he started to slip away.  “I’m sorry for being such a big baby and crying all over your shirt, man...”  His voice slipped away and before Cas could answer, he was gone.  He still had a light grip on Castiel’s shirt, and his head came to rest on the other man’s chest.  Cas couldn’t bring himself to move out from beneath him, so he settled down, prepared to stay until Dean woke. 

 _“Who could it be?  Believe it or not, it’s just me... Believe it or not, it’s just me.”_   Cas sang softly, gazing down at the sleeping man still wrapped in his arms.  “It’s just me,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> actually, sorrynotsorry


	9. Shine So Bright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay in posting! I got really busy suddenly!

**Next Day**

Dean woke slowly from his blissfully dreamless slumber.  He didn’t move at first, feeling quite comfortable, wrapped in the warm heaviness of sleep.  He didn’t notice at first that he was gently moving with the rise and fall of Castiel’s chest, nor did he notice right away that his fingers still clung tightly to the fabric of his friend’s shirt.  All he knew upon waking was that he was warm, that he felt rested and safe.

Cas hadn’t managed to fall asleep for the couple hours after Dean had drooped off, and as a result had stewed in his own cluttered thoughts until his eyelids had finally started to grow heavy.  He had shifted Dean and himself carefully so that he could lay down a little more comfortably.

Dean finally opened his eyes, memories of the previous day spilling back in, slowly becoming aware of the situation.  He almost pushed himself up off Castiel’s chest, but stopped, thought for a moment, and then gently relaxed once more, allowing himself the luxury.  Castiel’s arms were still around him, though his hold had lessened somewhat in sleep, though his fingers were still gripping Dean’s shoulders tight as if to raise him from the hellfire of his past.  Dean shifted around a little so he could look up at Cas.

His black hair was a rumpled mess, his mouth was just the tiniest bit open and his face was completely relaxed.  Dean hadn’t realised that Castiel’s expressions had been so eternally changing, always shifting without fully relaxing.  He was surprised to see how much younger his companion looked in sleep, and he couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from the sight.  He thought about how he should be feeling uncomfortable and awkward laying in Castiel’s sleeping embrace, but all he truly felt was comfort, and a distinct lack of the desire to move.

He pushed away every thought of Adam, refusing to lapse back into the weakness he had fallen into the day before.  He hated how he lost himself each year, though each anniversary was slightly easier than the last.  Dean would never be able to express to Cas how much he appreciated the man’s impromptu attempt to distract him from his rampant troubles.  Thinking about it, he knew he’d never be able to properly express to Cas how grateful he was for _everything_ the man had done for him in their brief companionship.  His thoughts continued to drift around the idea of Castiel.

He was only pulled out of his ponderings when Cas suddenly spoke.  “Dean.”  The word was murmured, barely a whisper, a bit more gravelly than his usual already-deep voice. Dean waited patiently, sure that Cas was finally waking up, but his eyes never opened.  Castiel’s arms tightened slightly around Dean, and Dean realised that Cas must  still be dreaming.  “Dean…” Cas murmured again.  Dean watched as his expression went from relaxed and peaceful to deeply concerned, but he could tell that Cas was fast asleep.  He let it go on for a few moments more, watching the worried expression morph to something more akin to terror before he finally decided to wake him. 

“Cas,” he said as he sat up carefully, gently slipping out of his arms.  “Cas, wake up man, you’re having a nightmare.”  He shook Castiel’s shoulder carefully, and the sleeping man’s eyes flew open, bewildered.  He got his bearings a few seconds later and realised that Dean was still somewhat laying on him, his face just a few inches away.  Cas was frozen, his heart fluttering helplessly in his chest while Dean seemed completely oblivious of his plight.

“W-what time is it, Dean?”  Cas asked, clearing his throat, trying to draw Dean’s attention away from him.  Dean glanced across at the digital clock on the cable box.

“It’s a little after 7:30.”  Castiel’s eyes widened in alarm, pushing himself up as quickly as he could, very nearly knocking Dean to the floor.

“I’m going to be late!”  He scrambled to his feet, grateful for an excuse to put some space between Dean and himself.  He rushed down the hall to his room, throwing the door closed behind him.  He knew he didn’t have time for a shower, which upset him a little, but he would have to deal with slight indignity.

Dean sat back on the couch, staring down the hall curiously, confused by Castiel’s sudden flight.  He wasn’t usually one to get worked up over anything, but he looked downright panicked. 

“I am sorry about that,” Cas called as he slipped on a blue, cable-knit sweater and came back down the hall.  “I need to get to school, and I had not intended to sleep in so late.”  He rushed about collecting his papers and books, shoving them into his protesting messenger bag.  He avoided Dean’s eyes as he bustled about, still flustered from having woken so close to Dean, from having Dean lay on his chest, from having Dean so close that it had taken all of Castiel’s concentration _not_ to have leaned forward and kissed him good morning. 

“Are you feeling better this morning, Dean?”  Cas finally thought to ask, his voice suddenly tender.  His mind flew to the thoughts of Dean, broken down and sobbing in his arms, heart cracking right before him, causing him to instantly sober.  He turned and looked to Dean, searching his face for any signs of overwhelming grief or despair.  Dean gazed back at him thoughtfully, waiting to answer the question until he was sure of the correct answer.  He felt unexpectedly calm, devoid of the usual deep ache that manifested itself in his chest after the anniversary of Adam’s death.  Instead, he felt blissfully relaxed, albeit worried about Castiel’s odd behaviour. 

“Yeah.  Yeah, I think I’m okay,” Dean answered gruffly.  “Thanks,” he added after a moment. 

“Of course, Dean.”  Cas slipped his now packed messenger bag onto his shoulder. He paused, turning back to Dean after remembering something.  “After I get home from school, I would like to take you to see an old friend of mine.  His name is Bobby Singer, he owns an auto shop not far from here.  He is the one who does maintenance on the Impala for me.  He has been looking for an extra hand around the shop lately, and I heard that you are good with cars.  I am sure he will be more than willing to give you a job.”  Dean visibly perked up, excited at the thought of having a job again.

“That sounds great!”  I’m looking forward to it!”  Dean said with a grin, standing lazily, stretching a little as he did so.  He confused himself by developing a sudden urge to pull Cas into a hug, but he quashed the desire quickly, writing it off as him still not quite being fully awake yet. 

“Alright.  I will see you later today, Dean.”

* * *

 

“It’s been forever since you’ve been in, Castiel!”  Bobby Singer turned out to be a gruff old man with seemingly permanent oil stains on his hand and a rough sense of humour.  Dean was a little surprised to learn that he and Cas were friends because their differences were seemingly so stark.

“Yes, I am sorry.  I have been busy, and I now have a roommate.”  Cas motioned to Dean as he spoke, and Bobby gave him a quick once over.

“Ya look good with your hands, boy.  Got that look about you.  Ever worked on a car before?”  Dean wanted to laugh.  As a teenager, working on cars had been almost all he had done, and it had taken everything he had not to pop the hood of the Impala and have a look under the hood.

“You could say that, yeah,” Dean responded, crossing his arms and looking around the shop.

“Actually, Bobby, that’s why I brought him here.  I know you need an assistant, and Dean needs a job.  A match made in heaven, isn’t that how the expression goes?”  Dean cut a glance over to Cas, amused by him having to continually ask about little phrases. 

“You won’t be makin’ the best sort of money here, boy, keep that in mind,” Bobby said, eyeing Dean with a new sort of consideration.  Dean shrugged.  He honestly didn’t care if it wasn’t the best paying job.  It was a job, and it was something that he not only knew how to do, but something he enjoyed doing.  A phone suddenly rang from a little office just off the shop, and Bobby excused himself “for a moment”.  Castiel was glancing around the garage, his arms crossed over his chest easily, his stance relaxed.  Dean slipped his hands into his pockets, watching Castiel silently.

The silence that fell between them was a companionable and comfortable one, despite Castiel’s odd mood that morning.  Dean noted again just how light a blue Castiel’s eyes were, almost inhumanly so.  If anything, the lushy darkness of his eternally black hair made the deep-blues stand out even more against Cas’ pale face.  He surprised himself by not ending the examination of the man at the already out of character observations he had noted.  He noticed the bristles of something that was just a little more than 5 o’clock shadow, he noticed the extraordinary length of Cas’ eyelashes, he noticed how slender and graceful, yet somehow still masculine Cas’ fingers were when he brought his hand up to ruffle his hair.  He wasn’t particularly tall, not what one would normally call an “imposing figure” and yet, he stood out so glaringly to Dean.

Dean flicked his eyes away from Cas just before the man could notice his staring.  He couldn’t hide the unexpected blush that spread across his cheeks, and it left Castiel wondering when he did turn his eyes onto Dean.  There was an odd sort of tension in the air, but before he could spend much time to identify it, Bobby clumped back into the shop.

“Was just someone settin’ up an appointment for tomorrow.  Should be a simple thing, so consider tomorrow your trial.  Get through it and you got yourself a job, boy.”  Dean’s face lit up, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he stepped forward to shake Bobby’s hand, thanking him enthusiastically.  Bobby loosed a low chuckle at the enthusiasm, but didn’t comment on it. 

* * *

 

Dean was unexpectedly calm that evening.  He was buzzing with excitement about the following day, yes, but he wasn’t nervous.  He knew his stuff when it came to cars, so he was confident that he would get the job.  Cas was being picky and indecisive about what to watch on television, flipping through the channels quickly.  Dean had let his attention slip away from the constantly changing channels, and so was startled with Cas let out an excited little yelp. 

“What, what is it?”  Dean responded immediately, shifting a little in his spot on the couch.  He glanced over at Cas, who merely pointed to the TV, which showed the beginning of _Little Women_.  Dean found himself smiling as well.  To preserve his pride in front of his little brother, he’d acted nonchalant when Cas had made them watch it during Sammy’s visit.  The truth of the matter was that he had enjoyed the movie immensely, though it was completely outside of the normal types of things he watched. 

“I knew it!”  Cas exclaimed from beside him.  Dean looked over to find Cas watching him, a mischievous look starting to sprout.  Cas had noted the smile on Dean’s face and the excited little gleam in his green eyes.  “I knew you liked the movie!  You were trying to be, what is it, macho?  Manly! You were trying to be manly in front of your brother, admit it!”  Dean scoffed, crossing his arms and turning up his nose.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cas.”  Dean responded with a straight face.  One of Cas’ eyebrows perked up slightly.  He scooted closer to Dean slowly, scrutinising him with a bright intensity.  Dean felt his lips twitch at the corners, but he willed them to be still. 

Cas stopped when he was right beside him, and very slowly, he reached over and poked Dean’s side, saying as he did so, “Do not lie to me, Dean Winchester.”  Dean’s eyes went wide and he automatically jumped away from Cas’ touch.  Cas took a moment to process what had happened before it clicked and a mischievous smile re-slipped onto his face.  Dean tried to sit still, staring straight ahead.  Castiel reached out again and poked Dean’s side a little harder than before, and Dean leapt off the couch  to escape it, a gasp erupting out of him.  Cas’ laugh was practically a cackle of glee as he jumped up off the couch to chase Dean.

“No, Cas, stop!”  Dean cried out as he tried to avoid Castiel’s tickling fingers.  Cas caught his arm and managed to pull him close, raking his fingers across Dean’s side in a quick attempt at a tickle.  The motion pushed a quick and sudden laugh out of Dean, a bark of a laugh, really. 

“Admit you love the movie!  Admit you are a sissy who likes a girl’s movie!”  Cas cried as he attempted to tackle Dean’s legs.  He caught one foot and Dean crashed to the floor.

“You like it too, which means you just called yourself a sissy!”  Dean huffed out as he tried to drag himself away from Cas, who was advancing on him with a wicked smile. 

“‘You like it too?’”  Cas asked, leaping on top of Dean, attempting to pin him down.  “So you _do_ like it!  Go on, say it, Dean!”  Cas managed to place his knees on either side of Dean’s chest and was attempting to pin both of his hands down with one of his own. 

“No idea what you’re talking about!” Dean yelled, laughing as Cas began his assault. 

“Admit it!”  Cas demanded.

“Never!”  Dean yelled, attempting to push Cas off of him, but failing entirely.  He was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down his face.

“Admit it!” Cas repeated.  Dean tried valiantly to resist, but finally he sputtered something.  Cas stilled his assault momentarily, grinning like a troublesome little boy.  “What was that?”

“Alright, alright, fine!  I like the damn movie, okay?”  Dean admitted, his voice trembling slightly from the little bits of laughter that were still wracking his body.

“I win,” Cas said triumphantly, standing to allow Dean to get up.  He offered his hand to help him up, and let out a particularly unmanly squeak of surprise as Dean pulled him to the ground.  Cas suddenly found _himself_ the one pinned to the ground, his own sides coming under the scrutiny of Dean’s probing fingers.  Cas laid there smugly and Dean’s face fell as he realised that Castiel simply wasn’t ticklish.  He stood up, looking somewhat disgruntled.

“Well, that’s a downer,” he commented, and Cas beamed up at him as Dean helped him to his feet.  Cas elbowed Dean lightly in the side, causing Dean to jump away and glare, which in turn caused Cas to dissolve into laughter again. 

“C’mon, man. Let’s just watch the movie,” Dean huffed, flopping down on his end of the couch.  The movie was still playing, the cheerful music and happy faces melting Dean’s disgruntled expression rather quickly.  Cas sat down, still smiling to himself.

* * *

 

Dean’s trial the next day with Bobby had gone through without a hitch, and by the time Cas picked Dean up from work, Bobby had been properly wowed by Dean’s general car know-how.  He’d accepted Dean on for the job without hesitation.  To celebrate, Cas took Dean to their favourite diner to get him pie.  Dean went through several slices, which amused their waitress to no end.  Cas nibbled his way through one piece of apple, more enjoying how happy Dean seemed to be.  He noted how changed Dean was from when he had plucked him off that little square of pavement he’d been found on.  He had filled out nicely, his cheeks no longer gaunt and sunken, his clothes no longer baggy.  Cas smiled fondly at the man in front of him, warmth suffusing every part of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone wanna let me know how I'm doin'? Eh? Eh?


	10. Count My Lucky Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra points to those of you who find the Merlin reference in this chapter. [Cackling Heard in The Distance]

**Thanksgiving [Five Months Later]**

They’d gone shopping for the groceries they would need for Thanksgiving a week beforehand.  Dean marvelled at how much food they got, and frequently questioned why they needed so much for just the two of them.  Cas would laugh, shrug and cite simply that it was Thanksgiving and that you were _supposed_ to make entirely too much food.  Dean stopped questioning it after Cas promised to make apple pie and pumpkin pie the night before the holiday.  It was bribery on Castiel’s part, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to object. 

The actual making of the pies had turned out to be an adventure in and of itself, seeing as Dean kept swooping in and disturbing the process with questions and attempts to steal bits of apple.  Cas kept having to chase him out of the kitchen, and when he returned from doing so, he usually had forgotten where he was in his steps of the recipe.  Finally, Cas told Dean that he simply wouldn’t finish making the pies if he didn’t stop interfering.  Cas was satisfied when Dean finally decided to just hang back and pout, watching as Cas went about his work.

Dean noted how swiftly and easily Cas’ fingers worked as he chopped apples or dealt with the delicate pie crust.  Castiel’s face was relaxed as he worked and hummed to himself.  Dean vaguely recognised the tune as the song Castiel had sung to him on the anniversary of Adam’s death.  He cringed a little, expecting there to be pain with the revelation, but there wasn’t.  Instead, he found the tune comforting, and he closed his eyes and hummed along very quietly.  The evening continued to pass peacefully.

Thanksgiving day started with the turkey not being fully thawed as Cas had hoped it would be.  Dean stood by and watched laughingly as Cas worked to run water through the semi-frozen bird, cleaning it out, hissing when his fingers started to turn purple at the cold.

“If you think it is so funny, you can do it!” Cas grumbled after a while, dropping the slick, heavy bird in the sink and standing back.  Dean tried and failed to suppress a chuckle when Cas tried to put his hands on his hips disapprovingly and ended up getting his sweatpants and shirt wet with turkey-water. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll take over.  You go change into clean clothes, turkey-hip.”  Cas shot him a glare, but Dean merely smiled brightly, dissolving the glare quite quickly.  Dean wrangled with the turkey, finally getting it completely cleaned out and into the pan so it could go into the oven, which they’d already pre-heated. 

“Cas, buddy! Hurry up and come open the oven door for me!”  Dean called out as he poured a little melted butter over the top of the bird, his mouth watering a little in anticipation of the crispy skin he’d get to enjoy later.  Cas came rushing into the kitchen, opening the oven door for Dean so he could slide the butter-coated protein into the oven.  He stepped back and let out a little puff of air.

“Perfect!” Cas exclaimed, smiling at Dean.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go to your family’s for Thanksgiving, Cas,” Dean commented as he leaned back against the counter, eyeing Cas thoughtfully.

“They invited me, but I wanted to stay and have Thanksgiving with you,” Cas answered.  “You should get into the spirit of the day and be thankful.  You do not want to be at my parent’s home for Thanksgiving.  They turn it into a far bigger ordeal than it _really_ needs to be.  All of my aunts and uncles and far too many of my cousins usually attend mother and father’s Thanksgiving Day feast.”  Cas shook his head to clear his mind of the hectic memories of past Thanksgivings.  “Christmas Time will be a better time to go home, because my parents keep it just to immediate family for Christmas.”

Dean felt himself deflate unexpectedly.  Of course Cas would go home for Christmas.  That much was very easily expected.  He’d keep the apartment tidy and in good order while Cas was gone.    Cas noted the sudden downturn of Dean’s lips, the returning sag of his shoulders.  He reconsidered what he had said and realised his mistake.  

“You don’t think you’ll be staying here on your own, do you, Dean?”  Dean glanced up.

“You said only immediate family?” Dean asked, confused.

“Yes, I did.  But you’re my roommate and my best friend.  There is no way I am going to let you spend Christmas alone.  I have already spoken to my family about you coming with me for the couple of weeks that I would normally go.  And I have spoken to Bobby about giving you that time off.”  Dean’s jaw dropped open just a little, but he shut it quickly, letting a grin settle on his face.

“Sure your family will like me?  I’m not exactly a rich, refined college boy.”  The words were said playfully, but Dean honestly began to worry a little if the Novaks would approve of Castiel’s choice in roommates and best fri--

“Wait, best friend?”  Dean said suddenly, cutting off whatever Cas had been about to say.  Castiel tilted his head to the side slightly. 

“Yes, best friend.  You are the closest person to me outside of my family.”  Dean blinked slowly, and then smiled softly.  He hadn’t realised that Cas had felt so close to him.  He had felt close to Cas practically since he had moved in, though at first he had no reason to trust the man.  It was good to know that Cas felt the same way.

“I think my brothers will like you,” Cas commented after a couple minutes of comfortable silence.  Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Do you?”  He asked.

“Yes.  I believe you and Gabriel in particular will get along quite well.”  Cas smiled. 

They lounged on the couch watching movies for the few hours until it was time to begin cooking everything else for dinner.  The pies were set off to the side, so they wouldn’t be put in harm’s way.  A pot of water was put on the stove to boil the corn, Cas pulled out a couple boxes of stove-top stuffing--dodging Dean’s accusations about being a cheater whilst doing so--and rolls were prepped to go into the oven once the turkey came out. 

“Stop picking at the turkey, Dean!”  Cas admonished as he slapped Dean’s hand away from the gently steaming bird.  Dean tried to pout.

“C’mon, just one piece of the skin, Cas!”  Cas shook his head and waved a spoon in Dean’s direction threateningly.

“You’re threatening me with a spoon?!”  Cas pursed his lips and took a step forward, brandishing his spoon like a sword.  Dean raised his eyebrows and reached a hand forward towards the turkey once more.  So quick that all Dean saw was a flash of silver, Cas hit him on the back of the hand with the utensil, leaving a stinging red mark behind.

“Ow!”  Dean yelled and backed off, putting his hands up in surrender and throwing Cas a dirty look before turning to check on the corn.  Cas had put the milk and water on the stove to boil for the instant potatoes--shrugging off another cheater comment from Dean--and Dean yelped, hurried to pull the pan off of the burner as it began to boil over.

“Dammit Cas, pay attention, man!” Cas turned away from where he was finishing rolling up the crescent rolls.

“Sorry, Dean!”  The kitchen was in chaos with the two of them bustling around trying to get various things done, but somehow they managed to move with a sort of harmony, avoiding any huge accidents.  The rolls went into the oven, the potatoes finished, the corn was buttered and salted and readied to eat, the stuffing sat in its pot steaming gently and the turkey was sliced.  Both of them were smiling in anticipation for the meal, especially Dean, who was practically drooling over the smell of the turkey.  When Cas turned his back to get plates out, Dean couldn’t help but pluck up a bit of skin and meat, popping it into his mouth.  He gave a little satisfied groan, and Cas turned towards him suspiciously.  Dean tried to look like he had nothing in his mouth, tried to put on an innocent face, but Castiel’s eyes narrowed.

“You picked at it again, didn’t you?”  Dean shrugged his shoulders and tried to subtly chew again. 

“All you had to do was wait just another moment for me to get the plates down!” Cas said in an exasperated tone.  Dean shrugged again and grinned like a little kid who had been caught stealing from the cookie jar, but knew he wouldn’t get in trouble.  Cas handed him his plate and rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Get your food, you ridiculous man.”  Dean laughed and served himself up, piling food onto his plate.  “Don’t eat too much, Dean.  You won’t have room for pie afterwards.”  Dean leveled Cas with a look and Cas backed off.

“There’s no such thing as not having room for pie, Cas,” Dean said over his shoulder as he made his way out into the living room.  They both hunkered down on the couch, watching some sort of documentary on the history of Thanksgiving while they ate.  They made jokes and talked comfortably between bites, just generally enjoying each other’s presence.  There came a point when both felt that they would simply explode if they ate another bite, but true to his word, Dean refused to let that deter him.  He took his and Cas’ plate into the kitchen, setting them in the sink before carefully cutting both the pumpkin and the apple pie into six slices each.  He stood there, debating what kind to have, but after a few seconds of indecision, decided to have one of each. 

He piled his pie onto a clean plate and plopped down beside Cas on the couch again.  Cas groaned loudly at the sight of Dean’s pie.

“How can you stand to eat _more_ , Dean?”  He asked, his voice pained as he watched Dean start on his piece of pumpkin pie.  Dean merely shrugged, popping a forkful of the desert into his mouth.

“Like I said.  There’s no such thing as no room for pie.”  Cas rolled his eyes and chuckled deeply.  He stretched his legs out in front of him, putting his hands over his stomach and sighing.  He was full of good food and grateful that he wasn’t alone.  The previous Thanksgiving, his first away from home, Cas had decided to stay at his apartment rather than brave the large family meal.  It had been a lot lonelier than he had anticipated, eating his traditional Thanksgiving staples by himself in front of the TV.  By the end of the night, he had found himself fairly downcast.  He’d never been particularly social, had never had many friends, but that Thanksgiving he found himself wishing he had at least one friend he might have called.

Now, however, he couldn’t think of a single thing to ask for and instead was incredibly grateful for his roommate.  He looked over at Dean, who had a bit of apple pie filling on the corner of his mouth but didn’t seem to notice, and smiled.  What had started out as a simple act of charity had turned into the friendship that Cas had needed, though he hadn’t realised he had craved.

“That is so damn weird to think about.  They had _seafood_ at the first Thanksgiving,” Dean marvelled, his fork paused on the way to his mouth, his eyebrows pushed together in concentration.

“They lived on the coast, Dean.  It makes sense if you think about it,” he responded teasingly.

“Yeah, but _still_.  Imagine having _seafood_ for _Thanksgiving_.”  He sounded so incredulous that Cas had to laugh.

“Haven’t you ever heard of some people having oysters at Thanksgiving time?”  Dean turned to look at Cas, nodding for him to continue.

“Well, that is just a tradition that has carried over from the first Thanksgiving, in a way.”  Dean’s eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up, but all he said was, “Oh.”  Cas rolled his eyes a little, smiling adoringly at Dean as his attention turned back to the show.

It wasn’t long before heavy bellies gave way to heavy eyelids, and soon both Cas and Dean were dropping off to sleep right where they were sitting.  Dean had partially slumped over when the exhaustion first set in, but now he was out like a light, with Cas barely behind him.  He peered over drowsily at Dean, smiling lopsidedly before he himself flopped over, succumbing to the food coma that was clamouring to take him for its own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Food comas, yay~


	11. An Astral Collision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heheh... I've had the first part of this chapter written for awhile...  
> I suggest listening to "Wannabe" by Spice Girls as you read the first part of this chapter ;D

**Early December**

Dean knew that Cas had only asked him to go get the few groceries they needed simply so Dean could get out and go for a drive in the Impala.  They were leaving in just a couple days to go to Fairbanks for Christmas at the Novak house, so it wasn’t truly imperative that the few things were gotten, but Dean had been restless.  It was exhilarating to drive on his own. No matter how long he had his license back, he still got something of a thrill when he drove.  The Impala drove flawlessly, and when he was behind the wheel of the beautiful car, he felt like he was in control.  Feeling like he had control over certain situations again was something he craved, and was still striving to achieve.  Dean had no control over anything except which alley he slept in while he’d been on the streets, and it had driven him to the brink of madness. 

There was also something deeply satisfying about strolling through the store, collecting the rag-tag items on the list Cas had passed on. People still didn’t look at him as if he were made of filth and his heart no longer pounded with anxiety when he was around others.  It was such a simple thing, but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

The groceries Cas had asked for only amounted to a couple of bags, and he returned to the Impala, throwing the bags into the passenger seat as he slipped in behind the wheel.  His fingers grazed the steering wheel appreciatively and when he keyed the ignition, he hummed along with the soothing purr of the well-kept engine.  The drive back to the apartment was peaceful and Dean’s mind was blissfully blank of all thoughts except driving.  It was softly snowing and there was a good covering of it on the ground, making everything a beautiful, sparkling white. The world was quiet to match the peaceful aura of the scene.

Until he was standing outside the apartment being barraged by the sound of... Spice Girls?  He blinked slowly and leaned closer, listening intently, brushing snow off his shoulder as he did.

“What the hell?”  He muttered to himself, slowly turning the doorknob and stepping in.  He stopped immediately, paralysed by the scene before him.  Cas, wearing only the old t-shirt and the pair of ratty sweats he’d slept in, was bouncing around the living room, books in hand as he was apparently tidying.  The song changed and suddenly, the usually studious, quiet and fairly serious Castiel was singing loudly and without shame.

“I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!  So tell me what you want, what you really, really want!”  Dean was so surprised that he accidentally let the groceries slip out of his arms.  The resounding sound made Cas turn quickly, eyes wide.  There was a momentary pause and then, suddenly, Dean’s roommate was dancing towards him, still singing along, a wide, playful grin stretching his lips.  His total lack of shame left Dean speechless as Castiel swayed his hips back and forth, bouncing slightly with every step forward.  His deep, gravelly voice singing the frilly lyrics of “Wannabe” by Spice Girls made the situation ten shades of hilarious.  Cas grabbed Dean’s hands and shimmied him backwards, singing loudly and bouncing along, pulling Dean with him.

“Cas, what are you doing?”  Dean asked with a boisterous laugh, kicking the front door closed behind him as he was pulled forward.

“Dancing!  I thought that was fairly obvious!”  Cas shouted over the music.  Now that he had started, Dean couldn’t stop laughing, but he did start dancing along, though it was reluctant at first. Cas brought him to the middle of the living room then bounced off to the stereo, where he cranked the volume up a little more and restarted the song.  Dean couldn’t help but sing along with Cas when the music started, and they ended up dancing with each other again, shimmying around, all swaying hips and ridiculous jerks and movements.  Both were laughing so hard that tears were streaming down their faces and their abdomens ached, but they kept at it, even as the song changed.  Somehow, they ended up doing an impromptu tango that didn’t go with the beat at all and had them both tripping over each other’s feet as they confused who was dancing which part.

Eventually they ended up collapsing on the couch, a tangle of tears, limbs and laughter, their full-belly laughs petering off to little chuckles that could only be heard after the CD had stopped playing.  Cas had ended up laying somewhat on top of Dean, but he didn’t realise just how close they were until they’d both calmed down.  The flush of dancing slowly faded to a completely different kind of warmth on his face, though Dean didn’t seem to notice their proximity.  There was a semi-comfortable lull and then, quite suddenly, Dean turned his attention to Cas, who was still completely tangled up on top of him.  Dean went very still, and Castiel momentarily lost his ability to breathe while he waited for something, anything to happen.  They were so close that Cas could see every single fleck of green in Dean’s eyes, could have counted each freckle across his cheek.

And then Castiel was kissing him.  His lips were pressed to Dean’s and he wasn’t thinking, not about the possibility of being rejected, not about his fears of ruining everything.  Dean froze in shock for a second, and then something just _clicked_ and he was kissing him back, turning Cas so that their fronts were pressed together.   The months upon months of Cas watching Dean, of trying to force away middle of the night fantasies, all the frustration went into one kiss, consequences be damned.  Cas caught Dean’s bottom lip lightly between his teeth, nibbling lightly and was surprised and thrilled when it produced a deep yet tiny, throaty groan. 

Dean tried to shift slightly, but with their bodies writhing as they were starting to, they ended up starting to slip and suddenly, gravity claimed them for its own and they were on the floor in an awkward, panting heap, eyes wide, cheeks flushed and lips just slightly pink.  The impact jarred Castiel, and he froze for a moment before disentangling himself as quickly as he could and shooting up, running for his room.  The door slammed behind him and he slid down against the wood, his heart pounding painfully in his chest.  There was a distinctive silence as both of them simply sat where they were on the opposite sides of the apartment, contemplating the situation.

Cas let his head fall into his hands, sighing deeply.  He’d been so good about keeping his feelings for Dean under lock and key, no matter the situation they’d gotten into.  One giddy lapse and now he had probably ruined everything.

Dean stood slowly and peered down the hallway, confusion fluttering in his chest.  He hadn’t kissed another guy since high school.  Dean hadn’t even fully realised how he felt about Castiel until Cas had kissed him, but now he suspected that the blue-eyed man was regretting his decision.  He stared at the closed door, unsure if he should try to talk to Cas or just leave him be.  He stood there for what seemed like forever, pondering, but eventually, he frowned and sat down morosely on the couch.  His fingers found their way to his lips and began to trace them.  Cas’ lips had been so soft-- He cut the thought off, closing his eyes and trying to breathe deeply.  He would determine how to interpret the situation when Cas finally came out of his room.  If he acted like nothing had happened, he would assume that Cas felt that he had indeed made a mistake.

Cas didn’t come out of his room for a long time.  He eventually got up and started pacing, trying to figure out the best way to deal with the situation.  He could go out there and try to talk to Dean about what happened, but he felt that might be the most awkward option.  He wanted with a desperatel passion to go right back out there and kiss Dean again, with gusto.  He was at the door, determined to charge out there and do it, but as soon as he put his hand on the doorknob, he stopped.  With a tiny groan, he leaned his forehead against the door.  The problem was that he didn’t know what Dean was thinking about the kiss.  He wanted to smash his head against the wall repeatedly.

Cas finally decided that he would see how Dean was acting first.  If Dean pretended that nothing had happened, then Cas would go with it, as much as it would hurt him.  He sat on his bed, unprepared to face Dean quite yet.  His face flushed red at the memory of the kiss.  It had felt so _right_.  Their lips had slotted together as if they’d been shaped for each other, their bodies had pressed together just perfectly.  Something about Dean was... different.  They had formed such a  profound bond in such a short time, and it made finally kissing him that much more intense and weighted than any other time he had kissed someone.  He groaned and shook his head, determined not to let the thoughts overwhelm him.

Dean remained on the couch, finally turning the television on when it seemed Castiel wasn’t going to emerge from his room for awhile.  It wasn’t until later that evening that Cas finally got the courage to come out.  Dean didn’t notice him at first, he was engrossed in an episode of  _American Restoration_.  He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to look.  Cas was standing behind the couch, looking down at him with his mouth slightly open as if to say something.  He closed it quickly, and there was a long, awkward pause in which both waited for the other to say something. 

“I am going to fix waffles for dinner.”  The sentence seemed so out of place in the situation, and both of them felt how awkward it was and turned their eyes away.  Each came to their own conclusions about the situation.  Cas felt a distinct ache in the middle of his chest as he made his way into the kitchen to start preparing the waffle batter.  He thought maybe he would fix blueberry waffles.  Oddly appropriate.

***

The drive from Anchorage to Fairbanks was supposed to be a straight-through twelve hour trip because of the intense winter weather.  It was still snowing heavily, so Cas was driving extra cautiously.  Both Dean and Castiel were dreading it, the awkwardness almost completely overwhelming the two.  They had barely looked at each other since the dancing and the resulting kiss, and the only speaking they did was to prepare for the visit to the Novak household for Christmas.  Both of them desperately wanted to break through the wall that had popped up between them, but neither of them knew how. 

So during the drive, they kept the heater on and the music playing in an attempt to drown out how obscenely loud the uncomfortable silence was.  Halfway through the journey, Dean gruffly offered to take over driving, and Cas agreed almost silently.  They pulled off to the side of the snowy highway and swapped seats, but past that exchange there was very little conversation.  The closer they came to approaching Fairbanks, the more nervous Dean became.  He’d been worried about meeting the Novak family in the first place, but now that the strained awkwardness had cropped up between the two, he was even more anxious. 

He knew that Cas’ family was rich, Cas had told him that much, but when they finally pulled up the long driveway to the Novak household, Dean felt his jaw drop.  The place was huge, ridiculously so, and for a moment, Dean forgot that he should feel uncomfortable talking to Cas at that particular time.

“Your parent’s place is _huge_ , man.”  He was ogling the place as Cas parked.  Castiel’s fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. 

“Yes, my parents are not quite so modest as I am when it comes to the Novak wealth,” Cas answered stiffly.  Dean shut down again, the awkward seeping back in. They had both started to climb out to get their bags when the--rather large--door of the house flew open.  Out ran a man who Dean assumed was one of Castiel’s brothers.

“Cassie!  Ya made it!”  The man exclaimed as he neared the Impala.  He swept his little brother up into a crushing embrace that Cas returned with considerably less enthusiasm.

“Must you insist on calling me that, Gabriel?  It is ridiculous,” Cas mumbled into the man’s--Gabriel’s--shoulder.  There was a brief pause, and then Cas’ disgruntled expression transformed into a fond smile and he tightened his hold around his brother.  “It is good to see you, Gabriel.”  Cas’ brother pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. 

“So, where is he, where is he?  I want to meet this “amazing” guy you’ve been raving on and on about, Cassie,” Gabriel said as he stepped away, looking around until he spotted Dean on the other side of the Impala.  A wolfish grin spread across his face, and he moved away from Cas to stalk towards Dean.  Dean’s eyes widened with alarm and confusion, his gaze flashing to Castiel’s face and away quickly, a war of emotions raging their way through him.  Castiel had talked to his brother about him?  Gabriel stopped in front of him and looked him up and down a few times, as if to size him up.

“You’re right, Cas.  He is, how did you put it?”  Gabriel paused for a moment.  It was obvious that he knew what he wanted to say, but he very deliberately looked over at Cas before continuing.  “‘Infuriatingly handsome?’  Isn’t that how you phrased it Cassie?”  Dean went rigid from shock and confusion, trying to process what Gabriel was saying and what it meant.  He could see Cas twitch into motion out of the corner of his eye, rounding the Impala to drag Gabriel away from Dean, who found himself ridiculously thankful for the space. 

Gabriel looked on the verge of saying something else that would no doubt mortify Castiel further, but he was interrupted by a distinctly british voice drawling from the front of the house, making its way towards them, “Gabriel darling, do leave your brother alone.  Can’t you see the poor thing is terrified?”  Gabriel’s predatory grin didn’t falter at the admonishment, if anything it grew.

“Aw, c’mon babe, I haven’t seen my baby bro in ages.  I’m just following the rules set down in the ‘Big Brother Rulebook!’”  Cas’ eyes flashed up the drive to Gabriel’s friend Balthazar, though his head was swimming with confusion at the obvious terms of endearment they were exchanging.  He pondered the implication for a moment, his thoughts grinding to a halt. 

“Babe?  Darling?”  Cas interjected, cutting off Balthazar’s response.  He looked between the slender, blonde, british man and his brother, trying and failing to comprehend.  He was aware that Dean was standing to the side, probably lost in confusion.  He wanted to go to him and try to ease the nerves that Dean was surely experiencing, but he couldn’t get past the wall of discomfort that had built itself since Dean’s apparent rejection.

“Ah yes.  You’ve been away, little bro.  I guess I should fill you in.”  Balthazar had come up to Gabriel by then, and to Castiel’s utter surprise, he had wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s middle, drawing him back against his chest, resting his chin on Gabriel’s shoulder.  Cas stood frozen, staring at the unexpected scene unfolding before him. 

“Are you gay, Gabriel?”  The sentence slipped out of Cas without him remembering giving his tongue permission to form the words.  He had no room to talk, of course.  He was gay, completely so.  He’d been out to his family since freshman year, but Gabriel?  Gabriel had brought girls home all the time, never giving any indication of any sort of attraction to guys.

“Don’t look so shocked Cassie, I might get offended.  I swing both ways, but I guess I’m a little pickier when it comes to men folk.”  Gabriel’s eyes were sparkling with mischief, an eternal condition of his.  Cas reached up to massage his temple lightly.

“Let me get this straight, Gabriel--” Cas started but was immediately cut off.

“You’re not getting _anything_ straight, Cassie.  Flaming homosexuality, remember?”  Gabriel seemed amused by his own joke, as lame as it was, and Balthazar even shook a little with amusement, watching everything while still keeping a hold of Gabriel, head still perched on Cas’ brother’s shoulder.

Dean silently finished gathering his bags and set them down in the gravel, watching the proceedings curiously.  He felt nervous, yes, especially after having faced Gabriel briefly, but he was curious about Cas’ family.  He couldn’t help himself.  Despite the heavy awkwardness that had invaded his and Castiel’s friendship--friendship?--he still wanted to know more about Cas and his family.  And his brother’s seemingly surprise of a relationship seemed just a good a place to start as any.

Cas blinked hard and pretended to ignore Gabriel’s comment, pushing through with what he was about to say, “You, who have acted like potentially the most straight man I have ever known in my life, are suddenly dating _Balthazar?_ ”  His voice was incredulous to the _n_ th degree, unable to wrap his brain around the bizarre concept.  Balthazar had moved to the States with his parents during Castiel’s sophomore year, and he and Gabriel had become immediate friends.  Balthazar had been around so much for two years that Cas had occasionally forgotten that he _didn’t_ live with them.  Gabriel rolled his eyes, leaning forward to ruffle Cas’ hair.

“Don’t strain yourself trying to figure it out, bro.”  Cas reached up and swatted his hand away, suddenly swinging towards Dean at the sound of suppressed laughter.  Dean couldn’t help it.  Observing the situation as an outsider was hilarious and the laughter was bubbling out of him.  He and Cas locked eyes, and though they both knew that  things were still awkward and that the glass wall was still somewhat in place over the kiss, they were both laughing, though there was still a strained edge to it.  Gabriel and Balthazar looked between the two of them, and Gabriel’s wolfish grin returned.  Oh, Christmas was going to be _fun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabrazar... Such an interesting ship, I'm having so much fun with it already~  
> How am I doing, darlings? Every single comment makes my heart skip a beat and I make inhuman 'squee' noises.


	12. Plot the Star Charts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for impossible to write transition chapters that seem dry and boring to me! It was necessary though, to help usher in the antics for next chapter ;D I promise Chapter 13 will be nice and long and juicy and you're going to love it. But here's this for now, sorry for the delay! I swear Chapter 13 will go up as quickly as possible. Hopefully Saturday!

**Same Day**

“You two don’t much act like a couple, do you?  Awkward little ducks,” Balthazar chortled, finally disentangling his arms from around Gabriel’s waist.  The laughter stopped immediately and blue eyes and green eyes snapped to the british man, then to each other, and then away.  Gabriel watched the two of them, already starting to formulate plans in his mind.  The two of them were obviously over the moon for each other.  Although the Impala stood between them, they both leaned towards each other unconsciously, and though there was an obvious tension built up between the two, he could see affection spark in the eyes of both.  His brow creased together as he attempted to riddle out what had transpired to put a wall between the two men.  He knew better than to ask while both of them were present, but he could bother Castiel about it later.  He smirked in anticipation.

Balthazar went first to Dean and then to Castiel, collecting their bags with a charming smile.  Cas narrowed his eyes at the display of chivalry, having known Balthazar entirely too long to fall for his  apparent grace and charm.  Gabriel and Balthazar were good friends for a reason, and that reason had partially to do with their extremely similar, wicked senses of humour.  Cas didn’t mind Balthazar, enjoyed his company even, but he’d fallen prey to enough of his and Gabriel’s pranks to be leery of him. 

“Come along, Dean-o.  The rest of the fam’s been waiting to meet you.  Cassie just _wouldn’t_ shut up about you whenever he called, so you better live up to your legend!”  Dean’s arm was hooked through by Gabriel and was suddenly dragged towards the large house, eyes wide as Cas watched.  Balthazar noted the dark glint of something that looked like possessiveness in his eyes, though he was smart enough to not comment on it

“C’mon then, Castiel.  Wouldn’t want to keep everyone waiting, eh?”  Balthazar said smilingly, slipping an arm around Cas’ shoulders, leading him in the same direction that Gabriel had pulled Dean. 

* * *

 

Sprawled across the bed that had been named his for the duration of his and Cas’ visit, Dean couldn’t help but reflect on meeting the Novaks.  He knew he should be attempting to sleep, but his mind simply wouldn’t shut up.  Gabriel and Michael seemed to be polar opposites, with Cas somewhere between the two of them.  When Dean met Michael, he’d been dressed in a perfectly pressed suit, with his hair perfectly groomed, wearing a perfectly charming smile.  Michael had introduced himself, but past that had said very little, choosing instead to observe everything unfolding around him. 

Dean had been relieved to find Castiel’s parents, Elizabeth and Charles Novak, far more down to earth than he had originally anticipated.  They’d both greeted him warmly, particularly Elizabeth, who seemed to have taken to him almost immediately.  It had all been much less nerve-wracking than Dean had anticipated, even with Gabriel eyeing him like he was some sort of tasty prey. 

The rest of the evening had been spent with idle chatting.  Dean learned that Michael was a lawyer, a rather high-caliber one at that, and he couldn’t help but comment about how much Sammy would have loved to meet him.  That led to a discussion about Sam.  Cas was glad they were able to steer away from the touchier subjects about Dean’s past.  Dean raved about his genius little brother, always glad for new ears to barrage with praise for the kid.

In his room, Cas’ sprawling position on his bed almost mirrored Dean’s exactly, though both were unconscious of that fact.  Their minds, however, were in far different places.  While Dean’s mind lingered over his meeting with the Novak family, Cas’ mind was frolicking gingerly around the idea of Dean.  It was exhausting, dealing with the barrier that had formed between the two of them.  Dean had been almost constantly around him for days and yet Cas found himself missing him.  There was no room for their previous, comfortable camaraderie in the midst of the suffocating silence that they had been suffering through since Castiel had kissed Dean. 

His neck and face flushed at the memory and he sat up quickly, closing his eyes and sighing deeply, reaching up to rub the back of his neck slowly. He opened his eyes to the dark, pressing his lips together.  He needed to try and repair things.  He would shove his feelings away as best as possible, he needed the comfortable friendship with Dean that Cas had so beautifully mucked up.  It had been far too long since he’d had a proper friend, and yet he couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever had a friend he could connect to so easily as he could with Dean.  He’d never suffered for his anti-social tendencies before, but now the lack of contact was wearing on him. 

The more he thought about it, the more he itched to move, and soon he was up and pacing his room.  He hadn’t realised how much he was suffering from the strain between he and Dean, but now that he had taken time to actually think about and process the situation, he was finding it a little hard to breathe. 

Finally Cas stopped and stared at the door.  It wasn’t too terribly late, he knew there was a good possibility that Dean was still awake.  Cas stood in front of the frame, staring intensely at the doorknob, pondering.  The most polite thing to do would be to wait until morning, but Cas wasn’t feeling particularly polite as he strode towards the bedroom door.  He padded silently out into the hall before he could change his mind, pausing only momentarily in front of Dean’s door before knocking.

Dean sat up at the sound, confused at first.  “Come in?”  He cringed at the gruffness of his voice, hoping he didn’t scare away his visitor.  His surprise turned to a sort of joy when blue eyes peeked into his room.

“Hey Cas!” he greeted him, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than he’d intended.  There was a tiny pull at the centre of him, and he was again barraged with the desire to embrace Cas, to hold him.  He hurriedly tucked the desire to the back of his mind and stood.  “What’s u--”  Cas cut him off before he could continue.

“Look, Dean.  I cannot handle us not being able to talk anymore, let alone look at each other.  What happened...” He paused, cringing at the words he chose, though he figured they would reflect what Dean felt about the situation most accurately, “What happened was my mistake, and I apologise for it.”  A muscle jumped in Dean’s jaw, but Cas couldn’t read his face, as usual.  “I just... I just miss talking to you, Dean.  I miss talking to you, can we please just forget what happened and go back to how we were before?”  They simply looked at each other for several long moments, each thinking their own separate thoughts that neither could decipher.  Both felt their own aches that the other was ignorant of. 

Despite his hurt at the imagined rejection from Cas, Dean found himself smiling a little lopsidedly.  “Of course, Cas.”  He stood, his feet carrying him forward before he could stop them, and he wrapped his arms around Cas.  After a moment of surprise, Cas slipped his arms around Dean’s waist, burying his face in the man’s shoulders.  Each relished in the contact, and each pulled away with obvious reluctance.  They stood quite near each other for a minute, neither wanting to say goodnight, though Cas finally broke the silence.

“Well, good night, Dean.”  He took a step back towards the empty hallway. 

“G’night Cas.”  Cas smiled and finally turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.  He glanced down the hall, surprised to see the light shining out from under Gabriel’s door.  Despite his odd humour when Gabriel had first come out to greet them, Cas had missed his brother sorely.  He loved Michael, yes, but he and Gabriel had always been a bit closer than he and the eldest Novak brother.  Cas smirked slightly.  He’d have killed Gabriel in retaliation for his pranks by now if they hadn’t been close.  He stood, ruminating on those thoughts for a bit before continuing back to his room, completely unaware of the plots revolving around him going on behind his mischievous brother’s closed door.

“It’s so obvious, how can they be so... so... _pigheaded?_ ” Gabriel was grumbling under his breath as Balthazar lay at his side, idly running his long fingers through Gabriel’s unruly locks. 

“As if you’re really one to talk, darling,” Balthazar drawled, smirking a little.  Gabriel shot him a glare that had absolutely no affect whatsoever on Balthazar.

“The way they look at each other, the way they _lean towards each other_ , the way my baby bro was going on and on about him!”  Gabriel was getting worked up and he knew it, but he couldn’t quite help it.  It was frustrating for him to see his little brother staring his potential happiness right in the face and not recognising it for what it was. 

“If you’re so upset about it, why don’t we help them along a little.  Stage a few ‘accidents’ to occur to get them to see past the ends of their own noses,” Balthazar suggested lightly.  It was a good suggestion and he knew it.  He knew Gabriel would snap it right up, knew he would simply snatch up the idea and run with it, coming up with a number of delicious schemes.  Sure enough, when Balthazar glanced up at Gabriel, the man’s tawnie-gold eyes were alight with excitement.

“It’s perfect.  We could even make a game of it!  Operation Get-Dean-And-Castiel-To-Stop-Being-Idiots.”  Gabriel was grinning from ear to ear, and Balthazar couldn’t resist planting a small kiss on Gabriel’s cheek.

“Surely you can come up with something catchier than that, love.”  Gabriel went quiet for a moment, trying to think.  He spoke aloud as his thoughts came to him.

“If I’m going to be thorough, then we need a good plan of attack.  And a good plan always has a good name.  Something good, something catchy,” he paused a moment, hemming and hawing.  “What is it they used to call Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt?  When they would combine their names?  Brangelina?”  Balthazar chuckled quietly to himself, enjoying Gabriel’s odd stream-of-conscious commentary.  “Brangelina... Castiel, Dean.”  His eyes dimmed in thought for a moment and then, all at once, his face lit up.  “Destiel!”  He looked down at the lanky blonde man on his chest, a huge cheshire grin splitting his face in two.  “You and I, my dear, are going to be spies.  We’re going undercover to get our two targets together at last.”  The gleeful light in Gabriel’s tawnie eyes was almost manic, and Balthazar sat up a little straighter, always eager to be a part of Gabriel’s grand schemes, “And the name of this top secret, hush-hush, super important mission is Operation Destiel!”


	13. Solar Flares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the shenanigans begin ;D

**Day 1: Operation Greasemonkey**

The next morning was peaceful, breakfast a quiet affair.  The comfortable atmosphere surprised Dean, who had expected there to be more of a bustle, and yet at the same time it reminded him so much of Cas that he fell into it almost immediately.

Gabriel and Balthazar disappeared not long after breakfast had finished, mischievous glints in their eyes that had Castiel faintly worried, though not enough to go after them and make an inquiry.  Charles excused himself to attend to some paperwork and not long after that, Elizabeth decided she would go for a walk.  Cas was reading, curled up in a big armchair by the fire in the sitting room everyone had previously been in.  Dean’s eyes lingered on Cas’ curled up form.  It still hurt to know that Cas thought kissing him had been a mistake, but he refused to show it.

Gabriel almost strained a muscle trying not to dramatically sigh.  Watching the two of them be so close and yet so far from what they both obviously wanted was _incredibly_ frustrating.  He withdrew from the scene silently and turned to his lover and his mother.

“You see it too, right mom?”  Gabriel asked, sounding for all the world like a petulant child whose television show wasn’t going his way.  Elizabeth nodded slowly.  She knew Castiel very well, more than her son probably knew.  She had seen the way Castiel’s eyes had lingered on Dean the day before, watching as Dean had greeted the family.  The look had been one of fondness, adoration and partial defensiveness, as if he’d been ready to jump to Dean’s rescue at any moment, though from what, she couldn't tell.  She didn’t know Dean that well yet, but Elizabeth could have sworn she had seen a similar fondness in Dean’s eyes as he looked to Cas.  It was under the veil of other emotions that she hadn’t had time to decipher quite yet, but she was almost positive it was there.

“Castiel loves him, that much I know.  I do not much approve of your meddling, but I agree that they perhaps need a slight push,” Gabriel’s eyes lit up with triumph, but his mother held up a finger.  “First, however, I would like to assure myself of Dean’s affections.”  Without waiting for Balthazar or Gabriel to say anything, Elizabeth strolled into the sitting room.  Both men looked up at her.

“Dean, I thought I could perhaps show you around the house.  I realise it must be a great deal bigger than yours and Castiel’s apartment.”  Dean smiled and got to his feet. 

“You can say that again.  I’m afraid to wander off alone here.  You’d probably end up finding me in ten years, an old dusty skeleton in some hallway.”  Cas chuckled from his chair, his eyes flicking up to Dean momentarily.  They shared a look that Elizabeth noted, and then Castiel’s nose was once again buried in his book.  Dean walked over and offered his arm to Mrs. Novak.  He surprised himself with the almost involuntary action, but quickly came to terms with it.  Elizabeth was a lady and reminded him very much of Marmee from _Little Women._   She took his arm and the pair began to make their way to the hall.

“I wanted to thank you for allowing me to come for Christmas, Mrs. Novak,” Dean said after a few moments.

“Please, call me Elizabeth.  And I should be thanking you instead,” she responded in a gentle voice.

“Thanking me?”

“Yes.  This is the first time my Castiel has ever wanted to have someone stay for Christmas.  I’m afraid, that for all the love and kindness in his heart, he has always been a solitary boy.  He rarely brought friends home, and when he did, I always sensed that they were taking advantage of him for his intelligence.”  Dean’s brow creased at the information, his eyes on the ground in front of him.

“He speaks mostly of you whenever he calls now.  It has been a long time since I have heard my son so happy.”  Dean glowed a little at that.  He didn’t smile, not exactly, but there was a ghost of one on his eyes, and Elizabeth noticed, sharing a secret smile with herself.

“I’m glad that it isn’t just me,” Dean commented quietly.

“What do you mean?”  She asked, turning to look at him.  Dean paused a moment to absorb her expression.  Elizabeth exuded a warm, motherly aura that instantly set him at ease.

“I’m sure Cas told you where he found me?”  Elizabeth nodded.  “Well, that was pretty miserable, as you can imagine.  Every day, my only goal was to make sure I had something to eat and someplace to sleep.  And the years before that definitely were not... the best.  Meeting Cas, living with Cas, learning how to live and feel human again with Cas... I haven’t been this happy in a very long time.”  Elizabeth stored away every word, taking notice of every change in his tone.  Elizabeth had her confirmation, completely sure of Dean’s returned affections for her son.  Dean didn’t recognise it or even see it, but he would in time.

After a while, Elizabeth actually started to tell Dean about the house, pointing out rooms and occasionally recounting some story about one or more of the brothers. 

Dean’s favourite room, by far, was the garage.  It was one of those expensive, fully insulated affairs, even fit for independent air conditioning and heating.  Dean’s attention was riveted on the wall of tools and on the cherry red ‘67 Mustang parked in the space beside them.

“I’m going to guess that this is Gabriel’s?”  Dean asked after examining the stunning red vehicle.

“No, actually.”  Elizabeth smiled, and for a moment Dean swore he could see the same sort of mischief he kept seeing in Gabriel and that he occasionally saw in Castiel.  “It’s mine.”  Dean’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh,” was all he could say.

“Yes.  To be honest, Dean, I had a somewhat selfish motive behind bringing you to the garage.  I know you’ve been working with Bobby, so you must be fairly handy.  I’m really no expert with old cars, but something is wrong with the Mustang, I think.  I can’t really describe it, but she just isn’t running right.” 

“Want me to take a look at it?”  Dean asked.

“You don’t mind?  I hate to ask that of you, seeing as you’re my guest, but no one else in the house is mechanically inclined.”  Before she had even finished, Dean was smiling and nodding.

“You don’t have to ask twice.  Let me just pop the hood and see what’s going on under here.  Man, ‘67 was such an amazing year for cars.  Impala, Mustang...”  He trailed off, wasting no time in getting under the hood to take a look.

“I’ll let you work then.  I’m afraid I would be absolutely no help,” Dean waved his hand to show he had heard her, but didn’t draw out from beneath the hood.  Elizabeth smiled, turning to leave the garage.  Her hand trailed across the thermostat, silently turning it up much, much higher than was necessary, as Gabriel had requested.

Balthazar was waiting outside the garage door when she came out.  “Hello Balthazar, dear,” she greeted him softly.

“I love a good prank as much as my wild lover, I do,” Balthazar started, his eyes lingering on the door to the garage.  “But, do you think this is the right thing to do, mum?”  Elizabeth looked at him curiously.  “Gabriel and I were friends for several years before Gabe realised he was madly in love with me,” Balthazar smirked slightly.  “I loved him straight away, I always did, from the moment I met him I swear.  He took time, though.  It took time for us to become _us_.  These little ducks haven’t known each other that long.”  He folded his arms over his chest.  “Is it right to push, or should we let the ducks find the pond on their own?”

“Let me ask you a question in return, Balthazar,” Elizabeth slipped her arm around the lanky blonde man’s shoulder and started to walk.  “During all those years that you were in love with Gabriel, did you ever wish that he would just love you back?  That you could have more than just a friendship?”  The question seemed ridiculous to Balthazar.

“Of course I did!”

“You didn’t like not knowing?  Hated to wait?”

“Yes, yes, of course. I don’t understand your point, mum,” Balthazar grumbled.

“My point is that Dean and Castiel are not so different from you and Gabriel.  Yes, I am quite sure that in time they may figure themselves out, but don’t you think it would be easier on their hearts to help them along now?”  Balthazar stopped and simply looked at her for a long, heavy second.  “Besides, knowing what mischief Novak boys tend to get into, who knows what the future may hold?” He sighed imperceptibly, then smiled lightly.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“And I don’t believe Gabriel is giving anyone a choice anymore.  He’s very set on this new plan of his,” Elizabeth commented with a little laugh.

“He’s crazy about this plan.  It’s highly amusing,” Balthazar agreed, twining his arm around his adoptive mother’s waist and continuing with their walk.  “Well, we’ll give it a little bit of time and then go talk to Castiel.  Gabriel’s game demands to be played.”

* * *

 

Dean almost didn’t notice how stiflingly hot it was becoming right at first, but soon the back of his neck began to crawl as rivulets of sweat trickled down into the fabric of his shirt.  He was taking his time tinkering under the hood of the Mustang, unconcerned about time. 

“Son of a bitch, why’s it so damn hot?”  He muttered to himself finally, straightening up and looking around.  He saw the thermostat by the door, but didn’t feel comfortable with trying to tinker with it.  It wasn’t his house, and he had no idea where Elizabeth had gone off to.  He tried to go back to his work, but soon his shirt was sticking to his back and his chest.

Finally, he grunted in discomfort and straightened again.  Tossing aside his tools for a moment, he peeled his shirt off and tossed it to the side, sighing in relief as the blessedly fresh air hit his damp skin.  He went back to the Mustang without another thought.

Cas was still curled up in the sitting room, his book held close to his face, blue eyes wide as  they raced across the pages.  Tears were silently streaking down his face.  He’d chosen a romance novel that his mother had recommended, but just then he was seriously considering savagely tearing his heart out of his chest.  The main character had just received a call that her fiance was in the hospital after having been through a terrible car accident.  It had been so sudden that Cas was blindsided.  He knew it was ridiculous for him to be so worked up over such a silly little story, but he’d always been a romantic.  He was so engrossed in his reading that he let out a tiny yelp when his mother spoke from across the room.

“You shouldn’t put your face so close to the book, dear.  Your eyes will go bad before you’re my age.”  Elizabeth smiled at the wild-eyed look of her bookworm son, taking in the silent tears without a beat.  Cas smiled ruefully after a moment.  She sat in another chair near the fire, her own book in her lap.  “Hm.  Speaking of poor eyesight, I believe I left my reading glasses in my car.  I don’t suppose you’d go and get them for me, would you Castiel?”  She glanced up at him and Cas was immediately on his feet, wiping the wetness off his face.  He never could tell his mother no, and he needed to get away from his book for a spell anyway, needed to allow himself some time to breathe and let his heart try to heal a little.

“I’ll be back in a couple minutes, mom,” he said over his shoulder as he made his way out of the sitting room.  He tucked his hands into the pockets of his sweats as he walked.  His mind was lingering on his book, his lips pursed together.  How could the author be so cruel to their poor characters?  He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts as he reached the garage.  The first thing he noticed when he opened the door was the huge wave of heat that hit him square in the face.  The second thing he noticed was a sweaty, shirtless Dean leaning casually over the Mustang, inspecting something under the hood.

Cas froze, his eyes glued to Dean’s back. He hadn’t realised how much muscle Dean had built up from working at the shop.  He wasn’t bulky, it was more of a lean sort of muscle, and yet Cas could see it rippling under his skin every time he shifted.  His mouth dropped open slightly as Dean straightened to reach for a tool, turning just slightly.  His brain refused to work, his feet refused to move, his mouth refused to speak, and he was simply frozen there, staring like an idiot.  Dean didn’t notice him at first, but as he turned, an unfamiliar shape in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned fully to look.  An awkward stare-down ensued, in which both men seemed absolutely clueless as to what to say or do.  It stretched on, and Cas swallowed against the lump in his throat, concentrating on keeping his eyes on Dean’s face.  He refused to let his gaze slide downwards, as much as he wanted to.  He _refused_.

“Hey little bro, mom wanted to know what was taking so long with her glasses!”  The moment was broken when Gabriel burst in.  There was a large grin on his face already, and his sharp, tawnie eyes went from one man to the other, quickly observing the obvious tension in the air.  Cas turned slowly to look at his brother, and as he did, his eyes raked across the thermostat just behind Gabriel.  His eyes went wide at seeing how high the temperature had been jacked up, and when his gaze finally settled on his brother, they held a particularly strong accusation that did very little to Gabriel. His grin turned smug and he shrugged nonchalantly.

“You get her glasses,” Cas said huskily.  He glanced back at Dean just once more, and then pushed past Gabriel as quickly as he could, heat crawling up his neck to his cheeks.  Blood also rushed quite decidedly south, no matter how much he tried _not_ to reimagine Dean standing by the Mustang, a little sweaty, leanly and beautifully muscled.  He wanted to kill Gabriel.  Obviously it had somehow been his doing, though he wasn’t sure how.  He must have turned the heat up in the garage when Dean wasn’t looking, must have hidden their mom’s glasses in the car.  Cas groaned and rushed upstairs, wanting to be away from everyone so he could just wander and try to distract himself from his already terribly distracting thoughts.


	14. Discovering Seraphim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tom Hiddleston Laughter] Ehehehehe...

**Day 2: Operation Footsie**

Dean woke, and he swore that he could _taste_ the mortification from the day before sitting on his tongue.  Gabriel had laughed himself breathless after Cas had fled from the garage, and Dean had hurriedly put his shirt back on, which somehow only made Gabriel laugh even harder.

Dean remained curled up in his covers for quite awhile after he’d woken, staring at the wall across from him, drifting in and out of a very light sleep while thinking of the day before.  He was fond of Gabriel already, though he was already causing trouble.  Something about his wicked sense of humour, despite its recent use against him, endeared Gabriel to Dean.

He finally made his way downstairs around noon, at last ready to face Cas.  He found Cas and Gabriel and Balthazar in the kitchen.  Gabriel and Balthazar were shamelessly tangled up together near the coffee pot, and Cas was seated at the table, with what seemed to be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his hand.  Dean watched him take a rather aggressive bite of it while glaring at Gabriel’s back.  Dean stood in the doorway for a moment, on the verge of laughter at the scene.

Finally, he cleared his throat to make his presence known.  Gabriel and Balthazar pulled apart and turned to look over at him calmly, and Cas jerked his head around violently in surprise.  He tried to cover the movement by smiling in a way that made Dean’s heart flutter a little.  “Good morning.  Or should I say afternoon?”  Cas said in a teasing tone.

“Good afternoon, Cas,” Dean replied, rolling his eyes at Castiel’s sass.  Gabriel watched the two of them and was satisfied by what he saw.  Both men’s eyes lingered on the other a little longer than before, almost without meaning to.

“Did you sleep well, Dean?”  Balthazar asked, heading over to Dean and handing him a cup of coffee.

“Not bad.  It was weird, sleeping in a bed, honestly,” Dean commented, sitting next to Cas.

“You don’t sleep in a bed?  Where d’you sleep, then?”  Balthazar asked curiously, returning to Gabriel, who once more wrapped an arm around his lover’s waist.

“On the couch.  Cas’ apartment only has one bedroom,” Dean answered casually, sipping his coffee.  Gabriel and Balthazar exchanged a look that ended with Gabriel smirking mischievously.

“Why don’t you just share Cassie’s bed?”  Dean and Cas’ faces both flamed with colour and they cleared their throats, each becoming very interested in their various food or drink.  Dean swirled his coffee, occasionally taking a drink, and Cas continued to aggressively take small bites of his sandwich, staring down at the table as he did so.  Balthazar lightly smacked Gabriel’s shoulder.

“Don’t be too cruel, you’ll drive more of an awkward wedge between the little ducks, darling,” he murmured into Gabriel’s ear. Gabe grinned and rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything more.

In fact, Gabriel left Cas and Dean quite alone, until that evening.  After the scene in the kitchen, Cas decided to finish the last bit of his book and made his way to the sitting room.  Dean eventually followed, unsure of what else to do as the rest of the Novak family had gone off their separate ways. He felt welcome, and that the family liked him, but he didn’t yet feel comfortable enough to stray too far on his own, so he decided to stay near Cas.

Cas barely looked up from his book as Dean took his seat in one of the chairs.  His eyes danced across the page, and once again silent tears were trailing down his cheeks, the occasional sniffle escaping him as well.  Dean couldn’t help but watch, fascinated by the changing emotions flitting across Castiel’s face.  His blue eyes shone with tears, and his face was just a little scrunched with pain on the behalf of the characters he was reading about, and although he knew it was just a book causing Castiel’s pain, Dean still wanted to hug him close and let him know everything was alright.  Instead, he curled himself up in his chair and sat there, watching as the number of pages Cas had left to read diminished.  With each page turn, the book seemed to pull closer and closer to Cas’ face.

Dean watched as Cas’ entire expression simply froze after he read the last page.  He sat there for several very long seconds before he finally lowered the book to his lap, closing it slowly.  His expression was indecipherable.  And then he was all-out sobbing, leaving Dean bewildered and panicked.  Before Dean could say or do anything, Cas was on his feet and pacing before the fire.

“It isn’t fair!  How could she just kill him!  Things were going so perfectly for them, Elaine had just finally started getting over her mother’s betrayal!  She was starting to heal, but the _damn_ author just had to go split them up and now Elaine is more broken than before!”  Cas brought his hand up to his hair, raking his fingers through it, leaving it sticking out at random angles.  His eyes were wild and random sobs broke through some of his words.  Dean got to his feet finally and intercepted Cas mid-stride, wrapping his arms around him and embracing him tightly.

“Hey, Cas, shh, shh, it’s just a book,” he said, unsure how to comfort his distraught friend. 

“I know, but they were _happy!_ ” Cas wailed, burying his face in Dean’s shoulder without a single thought, hands grabbing at Dean’s shirt at the back as if he needed help standing up.  And he was sagging so heavily into Dean that he was convinced Cas did need support to stay on his feet.  He was confused and worried about the strong reaction exhibited by Cas, but he wanted to help comfort him, even if he felt completely clueless as to how to accomplish that.

“They were together, and happy, and their lives were coming together, and then _one_ little accident tore them apart and it isn’t FAIR!”  Dean tightened his arms around Cas, drawing him even closer.  He dropped them both to the floor in front of the fireplace, a little overwhelmed by Cas’ sudden weight and warmth on him.

“Hey.  It’s gonna be okay, Cas, I promise.  I know it’s more than just a book to you, but really, it’ll be okay.  Stuff that unfair just doesn’t happen in real life, I promise,” Dean murmured senselessly, saying anything he could to soothe his strange companion.  The sobbing was calming slowly but surely, and Dean just kept talking.

“You’re so odd, you know that?  I mean, in a good kind of way.  You’re studying astronomy, which is awesome and nerdy at the same time.  And you’re a total sucker for chick flicks, which would normally make you a total sissy, but you’re a damn sight stronger than I am.  You seem all gruff and anti-social at first but you’re kinder than most people I’ve ever met.  You’re like this walking contradiction, and it’s awesome.”  Dean didn’t know where the words were coming from.  Cas had quieted down and had begun to sit up a little while Dean continued to babble on.  By the time the words died on his tongue, he was breathless with realisation.  It was a realisation that made him warm and cold at the same time.

He was in love with Castiel.  It wasn’t just random feelings for him, wasn’t just attracted to him.  He was flat-out in love with him, and that scared and saddened him.  Cas had already made it obvious that his feelings weren’t the same.  There might have been a time when Cas fancied himself in love with Dean, but since the kiss, that was gone.  And now Dean was floundering, unsure what to do with this newfound realisation.  He tossed it around in his mind, tried to look at it from all angles, but no matter how he looked at it, the conclusion was the same.  He was in love with his best friend.

“Feeling better?”  Dean forced himself to ask, looking at Cas, who had finally pulled away from Dean and was now sitting criss-cross before the fire, watching Dean curiously with slightly reddened, damp eyes. 

“Much.  You must think it is awfully silly for me to get so worked up,” Cas responded, looking down at his hands, which were twisting together thoughtfully.  He wasn’t sure how to respond to Dean’s outburst about him, he wasn’t sure how to process it.  It made everything a little more painful.  He was in the business of loving Dean, and the market had crashed to the point of bankruptcy.

“You’re not silly, Cas,” Dean said with a smile, pushing himself up to his feet.  “I’m gonna...” He faltered at the sight of Cas looking up at him.  He once again had that more than five o’clock-shadow but less than a beard scruff, and his blue eyes were now clear of tears and bright, his slightly chapped lips just a tiny bit parted as he waited for Dean to finish his sentence.  He closed his eyes, his sudden grimace making his coming lie believable, “I’m gonna go lay down.  Got a headache all of a sudden.”  Cas stood quickly, looking worried.

“Is there anything I can get for you?”  He asked.  There were a thousand and one things that Dean wanted to say, but instead he just quietly replied, “No,” and made his way up to his room.

* * *

 

Charles and Elizabeth had decided to have everyone come together for a family meal.  The pieces fell into place for another of Gabriel and Balthazar’s schemes as everyone finally gathered around the large, dark wood dining table in the dining room just off the kitchen.

They had ensured that Dean and Cas were seated on opposite sides of the table.  Gabriel sat beside Dean and Balthazar beside Castiel.  Dean was too awed by the idea of a multi-course family meal at an actual dining table in an actual dining room to be suspicious of Gabriel and Balthazar, and Cas was too absorbed into his thoughts about the afternoon to be suspicious either.

The first part of dinner went by peacefully, with little snippets of comfortable chatter, but after awhile, Balthazar caught Gabriel’s eye and nodded slightly.  Their newest plan, they’d admitted to themselves, was more for fun than for Dean and Cas’ benefit. 

Gabriel carefully arranged his face into a plain expression, slipping on his infamous poker face.  Angling his leg just so, he trailed his foot lightly up the side of Castiel’s leg.  His little brother froze, fork halfway to his mouth, his eyes cutting across the table to Dean, who was eating his food as innocently as anyone.  His gaze went to Gabriel next, instantly suspicious, but Gabriel’s eyes were locked with Balthazar’s, having a silent and innocent conversation with expressions alone.  Gabriel didn’t even seem to notice Cas’ attention.

Finally, he chalked it up to a phantom sensation.  Gabe nodded to Balthazar and smirked.  He left Cas alone until dessert, which, to Dean’s delight, was pie.  Cas couldn’t help smiling at the excitement in Dean’s eyes.  He was glad that the distantly sad look to his eyes from that afternoon was gone.  Elizabeth and Gabriel both silently noted the smile, exchanging a brief glance.  Gabriel waited a moment for everyone to get settled into their pie before once again subtly running his foot lightly up Cas’ leg, stopping just at his knee.  Cas froze again, blue eyes wide.  His gaze instantly went to Dean, who, to Gabriel’s complete delight, looked up at Cas and _smiled._   Gabriel’s poker face almost slipped.  Cas locked eyes with Dean and a small quirk at the corner of his lips had him smirking in a knowing, hopeful way.

Cas went back to his pie, still smirking.  The table fell silent and Gabriel had started to doubt his little brother’s bravado when Dean suddenly jerked in surprise, knees hitting the table violently.

“What the--!?”  He exclaimed before realising what a commotion he’d made.  Clearing his throat, he glued his eyes to his plate of pie.

“I’m uh... I just, I’m sorry, I just,” he stammered, and Gabriel and Balthazar lost it, dissolving into boisterous bouts of laughter.  Elizabeth calmly continued to eating, trying not to smile at the obvious prank. Michael and Charles looked at each other, completely clueless.  Cas looked absolutely mortified, glancing between the embarrassed Dean and his brother, piecing together the fact that his earlier suspicion had been well-founded.

Cas stood slowly, pushing his chair in gently behind him.  “Excuse me, please,” he said politely and calmly, his tone completely contradictory to the murderous look he leveled at Gabriel, which only served to make Gabriel guffaw harder.  Dean watched him go, conflicted.  He stared down at his half-eaten pie, almost glaring at it.  Sighing, he shovelled another large bite into his mouth, chewing as fast as he could manage and standing.

“Yeah, uh, excuse me too,” he said hurriedly as he rushed after Cas.  “Cas, wait!”  He called at the retreating form.  Castiel stopped and turned back towards Dean.

“Yes, Dean?”  Traces of embarrassment were still evident on his face.  Dean jogged up to him, but wasn’t sure what to say, so he just stood there.  Cas, at last, broke the silence.

“I do believe that you and I have become the objects of my brother’s most recent game.”  His voice was stiff and he couldn’t seem to look Dean in the eye.  He was horrified and mortified.  He’d thought for sure... he forced the thought to trail off, squeezing his eyes shut and massaging his temple.  Never before had Gabriel pushed him far enough to actually make him truly upset.  He understood his brother’s intentions, but it was useless. Dean obviously did not feel the same as Cas, so Gabriel’s games were useless.

“I suggest that tomorrow we stay together.  If we are together the whole time, then Balthazar and Gabriel will not be able to pull another trick on us.”  Dean was nodding before Cas had even finished.

“Yeah, makes sense.  Whoever wakes up first can kick the other one out of bed in the morning.  Then we’ll just hang together, like we basically do anyway on the weekend at the apartment!”  Cas was smiling at Dean’s enthusiasm, his embarrassment fading slowly.  “We could even turn it into a game of our own!  Why not have fun with it, huh?  Avoiding the enemy, run surveillance for each other.”  Dean started walking and Cas continued beside him, both completely unaware that Balthazar and Gabriel were listening, grinning amongst themselves at the new development.

When Gabe and Balthazar at last went upstairs for the night, they were delighted by the scene they found framed by Dean’s open bedroom door.  Dean was strewn out diagonally across his bed, and Cas was on the floor, slumped against the side of the bed, both fast asleep.  Mischief was momentarily forgotten, and Gabriel smiled at how much Cas and Dean looked like a couple of kids who tired themselves out after an exciting sleepover.  He had honestly missed his little brother. 

The ghosts of smiles were still on their lips.  Balthazar went to fetch a couple of blankets, and he and Gabriel spread the blankets across Cas and Dean, turning off the lights and closing the door before heading off to their own room for the night.


	15. A Tightening Orbit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had SO much fun writing this one. The next chapter, I think, is the one everyone has been waiting for ;D

**Day 3: Operation Scare Tactic**

Cas woke slowly, completely unconcerned about time.  He didn’t know quite where he was at first, but he was warm, surrounded by the comfortable and familiar scent of Dean.  When his eyes finally slid open, he found himself laying on his side on the floor of Dean’s bedroom.  He remembered the night before, and it brought a sleepy smile to his face as he gently pushed himself up into a sitting position.  He was momentarily confused by the blanket draped over him, but the thought didn’t stay long.

Glancing to his left, he noticed that Dean was still laid out diagonally across the bed, but at some point during the night, he had partially drawn his knees to his chest, arms crossed as if he was protecting himself as he slept.  Cas loved catching Dean when he was asleep.  All of his worries, his remaining insecurities, his distance, it all fell away, leaving him vulnerable and untouched by the demons of his past.  Things had improved for Dean, Cas knew that, but there were times when he still caught a glimpse of the tortured soul he’d taken in so many months before.  The indecipherable sadness that sometimes etched itself upon Dean’s face would never, Cas suspected, go away entirely.  Castiel sighed quietly.  He longed to reach out and simply caress Dean’s face, longed to crawl up into the bed with him and wrap his arms around Dean, but he knew better.

“Dean,” Cas murmured.

“Hmm?”  The other man grunted.

“Come on.  You said to wake you if I was awake first.”  Dean’s limbs slowly stretched out across the bed, awareness slowly leaking into his features. 

“I did?  Why would I freakin’ do that?”  Dean grumbled, peeking one eye open.

“Today’s the day we--” Cas paused, trying to remember Dean’s exact phrasing from the day before, “‘Employ tactical evasive maneuvers to keep out of the enemy’s sight.”  There was a moment of silence, and then Dean chuckled deeply.

“Right, right.  Well, before then it would be great if I could catch a shower.  I’ll need you to be on guard duty outside the bathroom to make sure your brother doesn’t take my clothes.”  Cas tried very hard not to blush at the sudden images that chose to invade his mind just then.  He cleared his throat gently.

“Okay,” was all he said.  Dean hauled himself up and started rifling through his bag for clothes.  Cas stood and patiently waited by the door, still trying to keep his mind clean. 

“C’mon,” Dean said, peeking his head out the door, checking both ways before exiting the room, Cas following behind.  Castiel retrieved a towel for Dean to use and then sat against the wall next to the bathroom door.  The sound of the shower turning on within nearly drove Cas insane.  He wanted so badly to slip into the bathroom, to strip out of his clothes, to slide into the shower with Dean and...

“No,” he said out loud to himself to halt the dirty thoughts in their tracks.  He squeezed his eyes shut.  He would be spending the entire day with Dean, he needed a clean mind or else he would go insane with longing.

Eyes still shut, he focused solely on his breathing, counting each breath as it passed through his lungs, refusing access to any and all thoughts.  He’d managed to calm himself pretty well by the time Dean emerged.  The sight of his damp, warm skin almost pulled Cas over the edge again, but he managed to push away the ramblings of his misbehaving mind, quickly getting to his feet.

“I thought perhaps the safest course of action would be for us simply to stay in one place so that Gabriel and Balthazar have no chance to pull a trick.  Maybe we could watch movies?”  Cas suggested, his face morphing into that of a pleading little kid’s.  He looked down at his feet and then glanced up at Dean from underneath his eyelashes, and Dean’s breath caught in his throat at the absolutely flawless pout.  “Maybe Disney?”  Dean was immediately nodding, unable to even begin to form the word “no.” 

“Disney movies sound great!”  He said enthusiastically.  He started to head downstairs, but then stopped, stooping slightly as if to sneak like a small child.  “Evasive maneuvers, remember?”  Cas rolled his eyes, but Dean motioned for him to get down, so he did.  They crept down the hallway to the stairs and Dean whispered dramatically to Cas, “I’ll go down first, check for the enemy.  If the coast is clear, I’ll signal for you to come down.”  The game seemed very silly and childish to Cas, but he couldn’t deny that he was starting to have a bit of fun.  And wasn’t Christmas the time of year when it was alright to act like children again?

Dean made his way slowly down the stairs, stopping at the bottom and looking every which way. When he saw neither head nor tail of Gabriel or Balthazar, he turned and put a thumbs up to Cas, signalling for him to come down.  Cas crouched slightly, being sure to sneak down the stairs as he knew he was meant to. 

Looking back, if Cas hadn’t known better, he’d have suspected Gabriel’s hand in it.  On the third step up from the bottom, Cas managed to trip on his own foot, sending him flying forward, eyes wide and arms out in front of him.  He landed, not on the floor, but smack into Dean’s arms.  Dean instinctively cushioned his fall as best as he could, wrapping his arms around Cas’ slightly smaller frame so that he wasn’t hurt in the slightest.

“Are you alright, Cas?”  Dean whispered, barely able to find his voice.  Before Castiel could form a response, Gabriel came around the corner, stopping dead at the sight of them in a seeming embrace.  Everyone froze, but Gabriel didn’t say anything, as Cas and Dean expected them to.  He just perked an eyebrow up at the scene.

“I tripped.  Dean caught me,” Cas said rather defensively.  Gabriel noticed that neither of them were very quick to jump apart, but still he didn’t comment.  He shrugged his shoulders lightly and continued on his way, saving his grin for when he was out of sight.  It was getting close.  They’d be spending the entire day together out of fear of him and Balthazar, who’s only plan for the two of them was to do nothing, let them cling to each other in fear.  Gabriel nearly let out a maniacal cackle at the thought.  Operation Scare Tactic, they called it.

“They’ll be ready by tomorrow, Balthy, I’m sure of it!” Gabriel practically sang as he skipped gleefully into the study that Balthazar had taken such a liking to.  His lover was curled up in a cushy armchair, set back in the corner of the study beside a floor-to-ceiling bookcase, a well-worn tome of Shakespeare held delicately in his hand.  Balthazar glanced up, his focus still far away for a moment, his mind still spinning in the rhythm of iambic pentameter. 

“What did you say, love?” 

“They’re almost ready!” Gabriel exclaimed as if his little brother and almost lover were cakes in the oven.  “You should have seen them at the foot of the stairs!  Apparently, little Cassie had a little fall and ol’ Dean-o caught him.  We won’t mention the fact that neither of them seemed too keen to let go.”  Gabriel was all but clapping his hands with glee, and Balthazar smiled gently at his enthusiastic partner.  He closed the book, taking another glance to note his place before setting it aside. 

“C’mere, you,” Balthazar said with a smile, offering his lap.  Gabriel tromped over and flopped into Balthazar’s lap dramatically, laying his head back on Balthazar’s shoulder, smiling when he found himself wrapped in the lanky blonde man’s arms. 

“You’re such a terrible bother to those poor ducks, and you’re dragging me into your games.”  Gabriel started to protest and pull away at that, but Balthazar held him fast and continued, “But, I think that it is wonderful at the same time.  Looking at how they act around each other, I’m not sure either would have ever realised about the other.  They’d have skirted around the pond for years and perhaps never would have met at the edge.”  Gabriel relaxed and laughed easily.

“That was the point of all of this.  I just want my little brother to be happy.  He never seemed to be, growing up, and God knows he deserves it.”  Gabriel sighed wistfully and Balthazar nuzzled his face into Gabe’s neck.

Down in the main den, Cas was happily flicking through the extensive collection of Novak Disney movies.  He’d gotten duplicates of most of them before he moved out, but left the original collection for when he visited home.

“Anything you would like to watch in particular, Dean?”  Cas asked over his shoulder as Dean flopped down across the entirety of the couch, stretching his long legs out all the way to the end.

“Whatever you want, Cas,” he replied.  “Hey, can I ask a question?” 

“Yes, what is it?” 

“What does Gabriel do?  Y’know, what’s his job?  He hasn’t said anything about it yet, and I just can’t imagine him in any one job,” Dean asked, his voice full of curiosity.  Cas actually laughed at the question and Dean smiled without knowing the joke.

“Gabriel and Balthazar are business partners.  They own a chain of nightclubs and strip clubs.”  Dean’s eyebrows shot up immediately, his mouth dropping open a little.  Cas glanced over his shoulder to see his reaction and ended up laughing again.  “And no, I am not joking.  What is even better are the names.  Gabriel has always had an extreme sweet tooth, and that carried over when it came time for he and Balthazar to name their establishments.  _The Neon Creampuff_ , _The Saucy Caramel,_ and _, The Lucky Licorice_ are their most popular venues.”  Dean was already bent over double on the couch with laughter. 

“I’m not even surprised!” He gasped out through the laughter.  “It’s such a _Gabriel_ thing.”  Cas chuckled along with him and plucked out _Bambi_ for them to watch first.  Dean caught sight of it.

“Jesus, Cas.  You tryin’ to make me cry?”  He commented, eyebrows pushing together.  Cas laughed but didn’t comment as he put the DVD into the player.  He turned and glared at Dean’s long limbs stretched all across the couch, leaving absolutely no room for him. 

“Dean, move.”  Cas grumbled, standing beside the couch, crossing his arms as the previews started on the movie. 

“Naw, I’m pretty comfortable,” Dean said with a cheeky grin.  Cas narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to where Dean’s head was resting on the headrest. 

“Dean, move,” Cas repeated himself.  Dean just continued to grin, stretching himself out even further.  Cas dove down, digging his fingers lightly into Dean’s side, making his eyes go wide and his body spasm.  He curled himself up a little in an instinctive protective position, and Cas took advantage of the moment, flopping down onto the couch near his feet.

“I did ask,” he said in response to the accusing glare Dean shot him from the other end of the couch.  In silent retaliation, Dean stretched his legs out again, propping his feet up on Cas’ lap.  Cas huffed in feign annoyance, giving his feet a slight shove so they rumbled off his lap.  Dean simply moved them back a moment later.

“Knock it off, man, have a little respect.  The movie is starting!”  Dean said with a laugh, motioning towards the television.  Cas rolled his eyes and settled back to watch the movie, or rather, to watch Dean.  He’d chosen _Bambi_ on purpose, trying to see if he could get Dean to cry by way of a Disney movie.  Cas had sworn he’d seen tears in Dean’s eyes at the end of _Little Women_ , so why not _Bambi?_

* * *

 

Several movies and tears--on both Dean and Cas’ parts--later, they were still curled up on the couch, always reverting, more or less, back to their original position.  Once or twice, Gabriel or Balthazar would peek a head in while the boys weren’t looking, smiling in a satisfied way at the adorable scene  on the couch.  At some point in the afternoon, they army-crawled their way to the kitchen--much to Michael’s confusion--to get themselves sandwiches and chips.  Army-crawling back to the den with food proved to be a challenging task, but they managed it by placing the plate on Dean’s back and the chips on Cas’.  There were a few mishaps on the way, but on the whole, there was no great loss of food.

They ate while watching Lion King, with fairly minimal throwing of food at each other.  They laughed and cried and sang along together, completely forgetting that they were adults.  Both Dean and Cas had absolutely no complaints about it either.

There was one point when Gabriel came to sneak a peek at the two of them and caught them mid-song while they were watching Mulan, and he started laughing, giving away his position.  He was forced to quickly retreat when Cas and Dean hid behind the couch and started pelting him with chips.  They could hear him laughing as he fled, satisfied with themselves for scaring away the enemy.  Balthazar and Gabriel didn’t dare check on them for awhile after that, but they were already quite reassured that their plan was going off without a hitch. 

“Are they honestly still watching movies in there?”  Balthazar asked Gabriel when they finally decided to head up to bed.  The faint light of the TV glowed from the den, and they decided to check on them one final time.  Gabriel glowed with a brotherly sort of warmth when they found them both curled up on the couch under a blanket, the credits of _The Little Mermaid_ rolling on the TV in front of the two sleeping men.  They were a tangled mess of limbs and random bits of chips, and they so much resembled two boys at a sleepover, even more so than the night before.  Without saying a word to each other, Balthazar went to turn the movie off and Gabriel went to resettle the blanket over his brother and Dean.  They were so close to finally breaching the wall, even if they didn’t see it.  Gabriel crouched down beside his brother and tried to smooth his wild black locks.  He grinned lopsidedly when the unruly hair refused to be tamed, and re-fluffed itself instantaneously.  Balthazar stood behind him, a faint smile on his lips as well.  He reached out and twisted his fingers with Gabriel’s, pulling him out of the den.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed, darling,” Balthazar whispered, being careful not to wake Cas or Dean. 


	16. Brighter Than Heaven & Host

**Operation Drawing Room**

Dean and Cas both woke around the same time, disentangling themselves so they could both stretch and pick bits of chip out of their hair and off their clothes.  There was surprisingly very little awkwardness in waking up tangled up in each other.  Both were too groggy at first to remember their strategy about staying together, so Castiel excused himself to go upstairs to the bathroom.  They didn’t realise, as usual, that Gabriel and Balthazar were watching them.

The two of them had gotten up early, sneaking into the drawing room with the supplies they’d gathered the past two days.  They needed to prep the battleground before they sent in the soldiers.

They’d even managed to hook Michael into their scheme, though he hardly understood it.  He was in a fairly good mood due to the holiday season and was more willing to help Gabriel, though he knew his younger brother was up to no good, as usual.  The conversation had actually gone a lot better than Gabriel had anticipated.

“Mooooorning, Michael,” Gabriel drawled out, a grin plastered on his face.  Michael eyed him warily, recognising the tone.  Gabriel was up to something, again.

“Good morning, Gabriel.  What do you need and...what are you up to?”  Gabriel put a hand to his heart, dramatically feigning surprise.

“Me?  Up to something?  Can’t I just greet my darling older brother?”  Gabriel said in his best childishly innocent voice.  Michael leveled him with a disbelieving look and the younger Novak dropped the facade.  “Right, of course I’m up to something.  I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t!”  His grin returned. 

“So, again I ask, what do you need?”  Michael prompted him, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks, waiting.

“It’s nothing really.  Just a little bit of deception, a little white lie.  For a lawyer, that should be easy,” Gabriel responded in an almost sing-song voice.  Michael rolled his eyes, used to getting lawyer jabs from Gabriel. 

“What _exactly_ do you want me to do, Gabriel?”  He demanded.

“All I need is for you to go tell Dean that mom wants to see him in the drawing room.  He’s in the den.”  Gabriel clasped his hands in front of him, putting on his best pouty face.  His plan revolved partially around Michael’s compliance, which he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to secure.  Michael narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Why?” 

“We’re pulling a little trick on our own Cassie and Dean-o,” he responded.  He wasn’t sure how Michael would respond if he rambled off the entire plan, and honestly, he didn’t really have time to fill him in on all the details.  Michael considered it, almost said no, but finally sighed and shrugged.

“I suppose there is no harm in it,” he said breezily, and the grin grew enough to practically split Gabriel’s face right down the middle.

“Great!  The plan is about to get into motion, and you’re on!  Lights, camera, action!”  Gabriel exclaimed with wicked glee, motioning towards the den.  Michael rolled his eyes and headed towards where Dean was.

Hands still in the pockets of his slacks, Michael strolled into the den, where Dean was somewhat sprawled across the couch again.  Michael took in the messy den floor without comment.

“Good morning, Dean,” he greeted him pleasantly.  Dean turned to look up at him, smiling.

“Good morning, Michael.  I haven’t seen you much, how’ve you been?”  Dean asked in a friendly tone.

“I have been well.  My mother has asked me to come request that you go see her in the drawing room just down the hall.  You don’t mind, do you?”  Dean was on his feet immediately, more than happy to oblige to one of Elizabeth’s requests. 

“Yeah, yeah of course.  I’ll be right there,” he responded, stretching until his limbs were quivering.  What Dean didn’t realise was that Elizabeth was upstairs, talking to Castiel.

“Your father asked me to come get you.  He’s in the drawing room, he wanted to speak with you.”  Cas tilted his head slightly, then shrugged.

“Alright, I will go right down.”  Elizabeth smiled when Cas turned his back, obediently heading downstairs.  The drawing room had two entrances on opposite sides of the room, and just as Gabriel predicted, Dean and Cas went to the opposite doors, completely unaware that they were playing into Gabriel’s final plan perfectly. 

“They spent all day yesterday together in the same room.  Why would today be any different?”  Balthazar asked before heading off to his station at Castiel’s door. 

“If I know my little brother, and I do, he’ll figure out what it is we’re trying to accomplish with all of these pranks.  It’ll frustrate him, especially if Dean can’t quite figure out what’s going on.  Trust me, there will be confessions and then this whole mess will clean itself up.”  Balthazar still looked skeptical, but he kissed Gabriel on the cheek and jogged off, hiding just a little ways away from the door that Cas was approaching. 

Cas and Dean opened their separate doors almost simultaneously, surprise registering on their faces as they spotted each other from across the room.  Gabriel and Balthazar sprang forward, shoving their charges into the room.  Castiel and Dean both turned and caught sight of their aggressors just before the doors were slammed in their face, the sound of locks clicking into place sounding through the empty room.

“You have got to be kidding me!”  Dean exclaimed as he looked around the drawing room.  The only light in the room was from the dozen or so softly flickering candles placed around the perimeter.  At first, that was all Dean or Cas noticed, and then they saw what was hanging from the ceiling.

 _Mistletoe._   Mistletoe _everywhere_.  They stared around them at the room that they supposed was supposed to be “romantic” with a dull sense of horror.  They could hear Gabriel and Balthazar howling with laughter from beyond the locked doors.  Cas turned back towards the door he had just been unceremoniously shoved through and pounded his fist on it.

“Balthazar!  Open the damn door!”  Cas yelled, causing Dean’s eyebrows to shoot up at the curse.

“Not until you little ducks find your way to the pond and stop being so thick!”  Balthazar shouted back.  Cas turned and groaned, leaning back against the door heavily.

“I am going to kill them both.  Why do these doors even lock from the outside?  I have never thought about it until now,” he muttered, refusing to meet Dean’s eyes.  He knew what Gabriel and Balthazar wanted, but they didn’t seem to understand that the feelings were one-sided.

“I don’t get it.  What’s their endgame?”  Dean asked, taking in Cas’ defeated position.  Cas remained silent.  He didn’t want to say it, he didn’t want to see Dean’s face turn to one of repulsion or pity.  Cas slid all the way down the door to the floor and stared at the space between his feet, twisting his hands together. 

“Cas?”  Castiel glanced up briefly to find Dean stepping closer, his expression a mask of concern.

“I am fine, Dean.  I am just angry with my brother.  His ‘endgame’ is ridiculous and futile.” 

“What is it?”  Dean asked again, crouching down in front of the brooding man.  Cas fell silent again, letting his head hang slightly.  Part of him wanted to just out and tell Dean, and yet he was horrified at the very idea of saying it aloud to him.

Dean was worried.  Cas was barely moving and his expression was one of a troubled man, of someone on the edge of a momentous decision.  He knelt and moved closer, so that his knees were barely touching Cas’ feet.  This light touch brought Castiel’s eyes up at last.  The worried sparks in the mossy green eyes pulled him over the edge and into the truth.

“The point of this whole game was to push us together.”  Dean tilted his head in confusion and Castiel sighed.  The one moment he didn’t want Dean to be oblivious...

“Gabriel somehow knows--” his voice died in his throat for a moment and he broke his gaze away from Dean’s.  “Gabriel somehow knows that I am in love with you, Dean.  And he assumes you feel the same way.  He doesn’t realise how painful this game of his is to me.  I already have to be around you and know that loving you gets me nowhere, but Gabriel has just been shoving it in my face.”  Cas knew that he was rambling, but the dam was down, he couldn’t stop, and Dean was simply staring at him with a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“... I am sorry.”  Dean finally snapped to attention.

“Don’t,” he muttered, his brain still attempting to process Cas’ words.

“Don’t what?”  Cas asked breathlessly.

“Don’t apologise.  I thought you didn’t-- I mean you _ran away_ after you kissed me.  And you never said anything after.”  They stared at each other silently, trying to glean the truth from the other’s face.

“Am I to understand that this was all a--?”

“Misunderstanding.  Yeah,” Dean finished for him, a grin creeping onto his face.  Cas was wide-eyed.  He raised his hand slowly and touched his fingertips softly to the side of Dean’s face, who in turn leaned his face into the touch, marveling at how cool and soft Cas’ fingers were against his slightly flushed skin.  He brought his own hand up, pressing it against Cas’, capturing the hand against his face.  They remained like that, each counting the beats of their own hearts, their eyes slipping closed, simply enjoying the contact that had ceased to be taboo.

Gabriel and Balthazar silently opened the opposite door from them, peering in.  They both smiled at the scene they found, taking it in before withdrawing just as silently, closing the door without a sound.

“I love you, Dean Winchester.  I have loved you practically since the moment I laid eyes on you and your little square of pavement.”  Cas could barely find the strength to say the words, a part of him still waiting to be rejected.  Dean’s eyes remained closed, but he smiled gently.  Castiel did open his eyes, drinking in the sight of the beautiful man in front of him, because now he could.  Now he didn’t have to worry about being caught.  His chest swelled with the enormity of it all.  Dean knew he loved him, Dean loved him, Dean knew he loved him, Dean loved him.  The thought kept running through his head. 

He absorbed the curving sweep of Dean’s eyelashes, the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbones, the sea of freckles across his cheeks.  Dean finally opened his eyes, capturing the inexpressible blue of Castiel’s eyes.  He hadn’t returned the words, but Cas could see the sentiment in the depths of his green eyes.  He could actually see it now.

Dean lurched forward a little, and then stopped, looking unsure.  “Can I... Can I kiss you, Cas?”  His voice was low and rough and it made Cas’ heart stop and then pick up at an almost deadly pace.  Instead of attempting to form an answer, Cas slipped his hand around to cup the back of Dean’s neck, his fingers curling into the short hairs on the back of his head.  He drew him close, Dean’s body sliding between Cas’ slightly parted knees, his body fitting perfectly into the space, and yet he still wasn’t close enough. 

Cas had pulled him close enough that Dean could see every hue in his eyes, could breathe in the taste of him.  Their lips were touching, their breaths mingling, but both remained just like, memorising the moment.  And then, slowly, Dean closed the gap, pressing his lips to Cas’ very softly.  It was a short, sweet kiss, and Dean pulled away just enough to press his forehead to Castiel’s.  They were a tangle of limbs, their bodies pressed together in a perfect line.

“Dean,” Cas breathed, and a shiver worked its way down Dean’s spine.  Never before had Dean heard his name spoken so beautifully, never had the sound of his own name excited him so much.  Cas leaned in and recaptured his lips, his hand dropping down to Dean’s chest.  It started soft, sweet, but this time it didn’t end, it began morphing into something else.  Months of waiting, of longing, much like their first kiss, all of it flooded into the moment, and suddenly the two were desperate to be _closer_. 

Cas’ fingers gently curled into Dean’s shirt, tugging him forwards.  Dean’s lips parted as he gasped in surprise, and Cas took advantage of that moment, his tongue darting out to gently skim Dean’s lips, shivering unconsciously at how soft they were.  Dean allowed him access, and Cas’ tongue slid slowly into his mouth, sensually sliding against Dean’s.  The small action was enough to elicit a groan from Dean.  It was an attack, and yet Dean couldn’t see it as one. He unexpectedly found himself succumbing fully to Cas as he pulled Dean even closer, so there was almost no space between them at all.

Dean pulled away suddenly, standing, leaving Cas panting and confused.  He wasn’t made to wait long, however.  Dean leaned over, picking Cas up and immediately re-initiating their kiss.  Cas could feel every muscle beneath Dean’s shirt.  Dean backed them over to a large sofa against the wall, gently falling back onto it.  Cas was pleased with the arrangement, his body now laying all along Dean’s long, lean one.  Somehow, Dean had managed to do this all without breaking his lips away from Cas’.  His hands slid across Castiel’s shoulders, down his back, sliding to his sides, and finally resting on his hips.  In response to the touch, Cas rolled his hips slightly against Dean, and he would have grinned if he wasn’t already quite occupied with his mouth, because the friction caused Dean’s heart to speed, his breath to quicken, and another groan to escape him. 

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean practically moaned when the other man broke away.  Moments later his mouth was on Dean’s neck, kissing, licking, tasting.  He swore he could feel Dean’s racing pulse beneath his lips, and it made him smirk.  He kissed down to the joint between shoulder and neck.  Experimentally, he nipped the spot gently and Dean threw his head back at the contact of teeth on sensitive skin.  Cas nipped the spot again and then ran his tongue over the it.  He continued to kiss and lick his way down  to Dean’s collarbones, gently pushing the collar of Dean’s shirt down and out of the way to do so, and then he made his way back up.  Occasionally, he would stop to nip or suck a spot, pulling away only long enough to look at the small mark that would already be blooming on Dean’s skin. 

Back where Dean’s neck met his shoulder, Cas let his teeth graze the spot and then he bit down.  Gently enough so as not to draw blood or hurt very much, but enough to leave a good sized mark.  The action was enough to pull an outright moan from Dean, which only served to heighten Cas’ excitement and arousal.

His lips moved up to Dean’s ear and he whispered, “Mine... I have marked you as mine now.”  Cas’ voice was just a low rumble, almost like thunder rolling through a cloud, and Dean found himself unable to breathe properly.  “ _Mine_ ,” Cas repeated, finally looking at Dean.  Dean’s face was flushed, his eyes blown wide with longing, his lips a deep pink.  Somehow, the flush made Dean’s freckles stand out more, and Cas couldn’t help but lean forward and leave a few soft kisses across his cheeks, Dean’s eyes fluttering closed.  Dean’s hands slid under the fabric of Cas’ shirt, fingers and palms skimming the soft skin of his sides, of his back. 

Cas slowly, almost torturously, rolled his hips against Dean’s again, satisfied at the definite hardness he felt, though at the same time he almost lost himself in it.  Dean threw his head back again, his breath catching in his throat, fingers digging slightly into Castiel’s back. 

“As much as I would love to take you right here,” Cas whispered, looking down at Dean so he wouldn’t miss a single expression.  “Right now,” Dean’s eyes opened again and he looked up at Cas, their eyes locking, the moment defining the phrase eye _contact_ , “I cannot do so in my parent’s drawing room.”  The low rumble of Cas’ voice vibrated its way through Dean’s chest, and he found himself panting harder than before.  Cas leaned down and kissed him again, a teasing gesture because he pulled away before Dean was ready for him to, and Dean whined quietly in protest.  “And so we will be calmly making our way upstairs,” Cas finished quietly.  Dean nodded immediately, unable to form a coherent enough sentence to try and speak.

Outside the drawing room, Gabriel and Balthazar were grinning like mad men at their success and Elizabeth was smiling gently at Gabriel and Balthazar, having deduced the results of their schemes by their reaction.  Michael was standing by, confused by what had occurred, and when Charles happened by, he seemed just as confused, especially when his youngest son came out of the drawing room very flushed and wild-eyed, though he was trying to appear calm, dragging Dean behind him, who was as equally out of sorts as Castiel.  They disappeared upstairs, and Gabriel and Balthazar laughed uproariously at the sight of the two of them.


	17. Light My Sky Forevermore

**Christmas Eve**

Dean woke, and for once he wasn’t confused as to where he was.  He knew immediately, remembered the day and night before vividly, and it brought a smile to his lips the second his eyes opened.  He was draped across Cas’, who was still asleep, his chest rising and falling with steady, even breaths.  Dean adjusted his position slightly so that he could look up at Cas.  He still found it funny, they’d both been holding themselves back over a simple misunderstanding.  He wanted to laugh about it, but he was afraid of waking Cas, so he instead settled for a simple smile.  Cas’ hair was even more of a tangled mess than usual, and Dean smirked, knowing that part of the mess was his fault.

He couldn’t help but stretch up and leave a gentle trail of kisses down Cas’ neck, marvelling once again at how soft Castiel’s skin was.  He couldn’t find the motivation to move, not yet.  They were all tangled up in the sheets, and Dean was warm, and he was resting on the beautiful man that he had accidentally fallen in love with. _“And it’s Christmas Eve,”_ Dean thought to himself idly as he allowed his eyes to rove over Castiel’s sleeping face. His eyes danced along the strong curve of his jawline, the taut muscles of his neck, the fullness of his lips.  He nuzzled his face into Cas’ shoulder.

As he lay there, his thought from before trickled through his mind, and with it came a flash of panic.  It was Christmas Eve, which naturally meant that the next day was Christmas, and Dean hadn’t gotten Castiel a Christmas present yet.  His breath caught in his throat with his panic.  How could he have forgotten?  He hadn’t even figured out what he was going to get Cas, but he knew he couldn’t just skip it.  Dean wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t get Cas something.

He gently pushed himself up, being very careful not to jostle Cas.  He shivered involuntarily as Castiel’s hand slipped off his back, the soft fingertips ghosting across his skin momentarily.  Dean leaned over and opened the drawer on Cas’ nightstand drawer, looking for something to write on to leave Cas a note.  He felt lucky that Cas was something of a nerd, because there was a beautifully new notepad and several different types of pens.

 _“Had to go out.  Will be back later.  No, I didn’t abandon you.  Just thought you might want to sleep in after such a busy night.”_   Dean smirked at the words and left the note on his pillow, sliding off the bed as carefully as he could.  He started to gather up the clothes that had been tossed rather haphazardly around the room, grinning at the vivid memories of each piece of clothing’s flight.  He found his jeans and tugged them on, then began hunting around for a shirt.  He scooped one up off the floor, flipping it around until he figured out it was Cas’.  He glanced over at the sleeping man, who had started to spread out across the bed in Dean’s absence.  Dean laughed silently to himself and pulled the shirt on over his head. 

He turned his head and gently sniffed the shoulder of the shirt, an instant wave of comfort overcoming him.  It smelled like Cas.  He couldn’t pick out the individual scents, he just knew that it smelled of his beautiful, blue-eyed lover.  The thought made him cast one last look over his shoulder at Castiel before quietly making his way out of the room.  It didn’t occur to him that he didn’t necessarily have a way to _get_ to a store to shop for Cas until he’d made his way downstairs.  Dean stopped at the bottom of the stairs, pondering his options.

“Good _morning_ , casanova.”  Dean turned his head in surprise, finding Balthazar leaning against the wall a little way down the hall, smirking at Dean.  Dean scratched the back of his head lightly, grinning lopsidedly.  He vaguely recognised the fact that he could try to be upset at Balthazar and Gabriel’s interference, but it wouldn’t do him much good.  He and Cas owed them, no matter how vehemently he was sure Cas would deny it.

“Mornin’, Balthazar,” Dean greeted him casually, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans.  A light bulb flicked on above Dean’s head.  “Yo, Balthazar?  Can I ask a favour?”  Balthazar cocked his head, waiting for the question.  “I uh... I still haven’t gotten Cas anything for Christmas.  And I don’t know anything about Fairbanks.  Would you mind...?”  Balthazar rolled his eyes and pushed away from the wall.

“You are an odd little duck, aren’t you?”  Balthazar commented, motioning for Dean to follow him.  “Yes, yes, alright.  There isn’t much in the way of places to shop in Fairbanks, what exactly are you looking to get for him?”  He asked conversationally as they made their way out to Balthazar’s car.  Dean hesitated before responding.

“I’m actually not sure what I want to get him yet.”  Balthazar actually stopped and turned to look at him, perking one of his eyebrows almost a little too dramatically. 

“Honestly, Dean?”  Dean shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. 

“I’ve been a little preoccupied the past couple days.  These two pricks I know kept trying to mess with me and my best friend,” Dean said defensively, though there was no real venom behind the words.

“Ah yes, but I do have the feeling that those ‘two pricks’ probably saved you and Castiel quite a bit of time and trouble in the long run, so perhaps you should be a bit nicer,” Balthazar answered, a small smile tugging at his lips at the gentle banter.  They were silent, until they got outside to Balthazar’s car.  Dean stopped, raising his eyebrows.  He should have guessed.  Before him was a car that was so distinctively _Balthazar_ that had he happened upon it on his own, he probably would have known without being told.  Balthazar walked around to the driver’s side of the clean, stunningly white Jaguar XF, motioning for Dean to get a move on. 

The engine purred beautifully when Balthazar started it.  “You probably should figure out what it is you want to get him, Dean.”  Dean frowned slightly.  He didn’t have the slightest idea.  He hadn’t gotten anyone a gift in years, he wasn’t exactly skilled in that particular area.

“Uh?  Ideas?”  Dean asked desperately, looking to the blonde, british man beside him. 

“I usually get Gabriel sexy lingerie, but that’s just me,” Balthazar commented casually.  Dean groaned and brought his hands to his face. 

“I’m screwed,” he huffed.  He had to figure out what to get, and it had to be something that would actually mean something to Cas. 

“Can I borrow your phone, Balthazar?”  Dean asked suddenly, the idea popping into his mind before he had time to fully process it.  Balthazar only looked mildly surprised before sliding his smartphone out of his pocket and handing it over to Dean, who immediately started tapping in Sam’s number.  It had been awhile since he’d talked to the kid anyway.

“While you talk to whomever that is, I’m just going to drive around.  The snow’s just stunning today,” Balthazar said as he started to drive down the long, gravel driveway.  Dean nodded absently, praying that his brother wouldn’t be too busy to pick up.

“M’ello?”  Sam’s sleepy voice sounded from the other end of the line.

“Sammy!”  Dean exclaimed.  “Rise and shine, buttercup, I need your help!”  There was a loud, distinctive groan from the other side. 

“Dean, one of the biggest advantages of being a college student on winter break is sleeping in.  You do get that, right?”  Sam grumbled, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh and imagine his brother’s famous bitch-face.  He was probably strewn out across Jess’ bed.  He knew Sam had gone to spend the holidays with her family, and he was glad for him.  Maybe Sam could get a taste of what it was like to be with a real family again.

“Yeah, yeah.  Don’t be a bitch about it.”

“Jerk.  What do you want, Dean?” 

“Well it’s Christmas Eve,” Dean began nervously.  Sam was going to give him hell and he knew it.  “And I haven’t exactly gotten Cas anything for Christmas yet, and I have no idea what to get for him.”  As predicted, Sam let out a long, dramatic groan, then a couple seconds of silence before he finally replied.

“You have got to be kidding me, Dean.” 

“Tragic, isn’t it?”  Balthazar said loud enough for Sam to hear, obviously having heard Sam’s complaint.

“Who’s that?”  Sam asked, sounding just a little more awake than when Dean first called.

“Balthazar.  He’s Cas’ brother’s boyfriend.”  Dean could practically hear Sam’s confusion, and he realised that he hadn’t told Sam about going to the Novak’s for Christmas.

“Oh for the love of...” Balthazar muttered, reaching over and plucking his phone out of Dean’s hand.  “Hello, Sam.  Apparently Dean has not exactly filled you in.  He and Castiel are in Fairbanks for the family Christmas.”  Dean sagged back into his seat, staring ahead.  He was pouting and he knew it.  “And since you didn’t know that little tidbit of information, I’m sure you’re also ignorant of the most recent development in your big brother’s life, especially since it just... came to a head last night.”  Balthazar cut his gaze across the car to Dean, who suddenly looked a little panicked.  Balthazar looked positively giddy, the bastard.

“What happened?”  Dean could just make out his brother’s voice.

"Well, well.  Let me see if I can put this mildly, I wouldn't want to dirty Dean's baby brother's innocent ears..."  Balthazar seemed at ease, one hand on the wheel, the other holding the phone to his ear, his expression one of thoughtful mischief.  "Essentially, little duck Dean and little duck Cas finally pulled their heads out of their arses, I'm sure that if you've been around them you know exactly what I mean by that.  All of the positively _tangible_ sexual tension came to a conclusion last night, as a matter of fact.  My, my, you should have _heard_ the noises your brother was mak--"  Dean let out a strangled gasp and ripped the phone out of Balthazar's hand before the man could continue.  Before the phone was to his ear, he could already hear his brother guffawing. 

“Shuttup, Sam!”  Dean growled, glaring at Balthazar, who was smiling innocently, feigning attention to the snow around them.  It took Sam a good while to actually calm down, and by the end of his giggle fit, Dean couldn’t help but crack a small smile, even though the joke was at his expense.  “Alright, alright, enough or I’ll sic my astronomer boyfriend on you and he’ll, I dunno, nerd you to death.”  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Dean felt a burning warmth in his gut.  It was oddly satisfying to think of Cas as his boyfriend.  God, he loved that man. 

“So, you called because you don’t know what to get Cas, right?”  Sam asked after chuckling a little more at Dean’s comment. 

“Yep.  You know better than anyone how much I suck at this kind of stuff.”  Dean asked, settling back into his seat.  He knew Sam was going to turn the conversation into some big emotional ordeal in order to help him decide what to get Cas.  Sam turned most things into a big emotional ordeal. 

* * *

 

When Cas woke and rolled over, his first emotion was of distinct disappointment.  The bed next to him was cold and decidedly lacking of Dean.  He opened his eyes, somehow needing to verify Dean’s absence, and when he found only a cold dip in the bed where Dean’s body had been, his heart sank.  Did Dean think he had made a mistake?  As the thought passed through his mind, he noticed a note laying on Dean’s pillow.  Cas pushed himself up a little, reaching across to pick up the slip of paper.  His eyes skimmed it briefly, and his frown turned quickly to a smile.  He folded the note up and stuck it into the drawer of his nightstand.

Soon enough he was up, stretching until his joints popped, and then was searching for clothes.  He was confused when he couldn’t find his shirt, so finally he gave up on his hunt for it and snagged Dean’s, slipping it on instead.  He couldn’t exactly complain, the shirt smelled so distinctively of Dean that it was an immediate comfort to him.  He hugged himself a little as he made his way to the window, nudging the curtain aside, unable to hide his smile.  An overwhelming gratitude towards Gabriel and Balthazar welled up in him, a gratitude that he simply _never_ would show to either of them.   

 Cas’ eyes followed the millions of snowflakes that fluttered past, tracing each of their brief paths as best as he could.  He swayed back and forth, humming quietly to himself as he did.  He swore he could still feel Dean’s fingers trailing across his skin, the ghosts of his kisses following the most sensitive lines of his body, the way he’d made Cas feel more alive than he’d known it was possible to feel.  There had been more to it than animalistic need, there was an undercurrent to the entire night that said everything that Cas would never be able to say, no matter how long he had to say it.

Cas’ mind went blissfully blank as he stared out at the snow.  He had no worries, nothing he needed to worry about, no regrets to face anymore.  He hadn’t realised just how heavy the weight of his unspoken confession for Dean had been until it was gone, but now he felt light, so beautifully light.  He was excited for the following day.  Christmas had always been one of his favourite days, and he was eager to see how Dean would like the odd little present Cas had gotten for him.  It was already wrapped, tucked away beneath the Christmas tree downstairs.  He had a sneaking suspicion that Dean had headed out early on Christmas Eve to do his own Christmas shopping, because that seemed so like him, but he wouldn’t say anything to Dean about it.  The thought alone brought a smile to Cas’ lips.

“What are you thinking so hard about, all alone here by the window?”  Dean’s voice surprised Cas.  He gasped, turning suddenly only to find Dean’s arms around his waist and Dean’s lips on his.  He let out a low, satisfied hum in the back of his throat at the sudden contact.  He would never get enough of that.  Cas almost forgot to answer Dean’s question when finally his lips were free to form words again.

“Just thinking about tomorrow.  Christmas is my favourite holiday, and I will get to spend it with my favourite person tomorrow.”  Dean’s chest tightened at the words, his heart taking a lengthy pause before continuing it’s eternal, steady rhythm.  He let out a small breath and then leaned forward, kissing Cas sweetly. 

“Well, isn’t that a lucky coincidence, eh?”  Dean murmured, nuzzling his face into Cas’ neck, his arms still wrapped tightly around his waist.  “We both get to spend tomorrow with our favourite person.”  Cas brought a hand to his mouth, attempting to look upset.

“And just who is that?  How dare they steal you away from me tomorrow!”  He said in a hushed, scandalised tone.  Dean spun Cas away from the window, never letting Cas out of his embrace, holding him as tightly as he could without hurting him. 

“ _No one_ is going to steal me away from you.  _No one_ is going to steal you away from me.  Not tomorrow, not ever,” Dean growled lightly.  Cas ducked his head under Dean’s chin, resting his head on Dean’s chest. 

“Good.”  Cas whispered into Dean’s collarbone.  Dean gently walked them back over to the window, silently staring out at the flurries of snow together.


	18. We Are Radiance

**Christmas Day:**

Christmas day in the Novak household started shortly after 5am, much to Dean and Cas’ chagrin.  They’d fallen asleep as a single swirl of limbs, using each other as warmth, and that is how Gabriel found them when he burst in, leaping on the bed and announcing rather loudly, “It’s _Christmas!_   Get up!”  He sounded exactly like a little kid boisterous with the news of Santa’s arrival.  He bounced on the bed repeatedly, doing his best to jump on both of them in equal measure.  Dean woke with a slight growl and Cas with a groan. 

“Alright, alright, we’re getting up, Gabriel,” Dean grumbled, sitting up suddenly and shoving Gabe to the floor, where he landed with a loud _thump_.  Gabriel was back up in an instant. 

“Get downstairs, you two!  C’mon!”  He called as he ran out of the room.  Dean laid back down, looking to Cas.

“Is he always like that?”  Dean asked quietly, smiling despite himself.  It _was_ Christmas after all.

“Usually,” Cas responded sleepily, nodding a little.  “And if we do not get up soon, he will return with a vengeance, so I suggest we get downstairs.”  He scooted forward and kissed Dean lightly, savouring the fact that he was allowed to do that. 

They pulled themselves out of bed, and Dean waited by the door while Cas pulled on a thick sweater, pulling the sleeves down over his fingers.  By the time they’d gotten downstairs, Gabriel had already wrestled the rest of the Novak family to the main parlor where the Christmas tree was.  Dean’s eyes roved around the room, at Elizabeth and Charles, who sat next to each other in their pajamas, at Michael, who sat beside them, at Balthazar and Gabriel, who were tucked in next to each other.  The only light in the room was from the little lights dotting the large, decorated tree, casting odd colours and shapes across the walls and the faces of the people seated around it.  Dean pulled up short, almost tearing up for a moment, though he couldn’t quite figure out why at first. 

He turned his head to look at Cas, finding his eyes already on him, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips.  A family Christmas.  All this time, Dean had just been glad that Sam was spending time with Jess’ family so he could experience a real, family Christmas for the first time in years, but there he was in the midst of a family who had already accepted him as one of their own.  He pulled in a deep breath, refusing to cry out of the blue.  He locked his eyes with Cas’, looking for and finding that same quiet strength that he’d so desperately needed when Cas had first found him.  He and Cas took their seats, and Gabriel sprang up, sticking a Santa hat on his head and smiling wolfishly around at everyone. 

There weren’t many presents under the tree.  One or two for everyone, not from lack of finances, merely just an over-abundance of thought going into each.  Gabriel descended on the tree, pulling out a single package for everyone, handing them to their designated recipients while singing “Jingle Bells” rather loudly.  Dean’s gift from Cas was small, something in a square box.  He stared at it, trying to fathom what it could possibly be.

Cas also stared rather intently at his gift from Dean, which was messily wrapped.  It was a larger box of a pretty hefty weight.  Gabriel flopped down beside Balthazar and started ripping into his immediately.  When he glanced over and noticed that both Cas and Dean were still intensely examining their still unwrapped gifts, he huffed indignantly.

“Don’t just sit there and have eye-sex with the damn things, boys.  _Open them._ ”  Dean and Cas both laughed almost simultaneously, but did as they were told and started to peel away the pretty, bright-coloured paper.  Dean’s paper gave way to a plain brown box, leaving his gift still a mystery.  Cas, however, let out a low gasp from beside Dean as the paper came away from his gift.  Emblazoned across the large box were the words, “Bushnell Voyager Sky Tour.”  Everyone stopped to take a look, the christmas lights on the tree casting a mystical light across the box of the brand new telescope.  Dean momentarily forgot his own present, too absorbed by Cas’ absolutely shocked and glowing expression.

“Dean this is--”  He seemed to lose his voice, flipping the box around, looking at it from all angles as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Well, y’know, you’re studying astronomy, so it seemed a little odd that you didn’t have a telescope.  Seemed to me like something you should have,” Dean said sheepishly, doing his best to ignore Balthazar’s pointed look from the other side of the room, the one that clearly labelled him a liar.  Luckily, Cas was too caught up in his gift to notice. 

Dean’s little brown box was still held firmly in his hands, his eyes glued to Castiel.  He nearly leapt out of his skin when a ball of wrapping paper bounced off his forehead.

“Stop ogling and open your damn present, mate!” Balthazar called over to him.  Cas set aside his brand new telescope manfully, though his eyes still lingered on it for a few seconds afterwards.  Dean gently opened the box, sliding the bit of newspaper out of it, his brow wrinkling in confusion.  He carefully unwrapped the newspaper, waiting for something to fall out.  He just barely caught the cord of something when it did fall out.

Dean held the object up to the light, a bronze amulet catching the light.  It was an odd little thing, a tiki-esque bronze amulet strung up on a thick black cord.  It was simple, quaint item, yet Dean couldn’t help but be fascinated by it, much to Castiel’s satisfaction.  He’d seen the necklace while browsing an old antique store, and it had caught his eye, coming across to him as very distinctly _Dean._   Everyone was leaning towards Dean now, trying to look at the little bronze amulet.  He held it out so that the christmas lights caught it perfectly, highlighting it for the other Novaks and Balthazar to see.  They all nodded approvingly, and Cas gently slipped it from Dean’s fingers to help him put it on.  Dean turned his back to Cas, allowing him to put the necklace on.  It hung down on his chest perfectly, the weight of it just right.

They both moved in to embrace each other almost at the same moment.  Gabriel and Balthazar wolf whistled in the background.  “I have another present for you later,” Cas whispered.  His voice wasn’t suggestive, just excited, and Dean couldn’t help but be curious at what else Cas had planned.  He started to ask, but Cas shook his head minutely and smiled.  “Later.”  Dean laughed quietly and finally nodded in agreement.

They all remained around the Christmas tree for a good while, each seemingly unwilling to give up the warm, comforting, multi-faceted glow of the room.  Dean, at some point, ended up flopping over onto Castiel’s lap, which earned him a huff of fake annoyance.  Dean grinned cheekily up at Cas, whose expression immediately softened.  Dean’s green eyes caught and shattered the colourful lights in the most interesting way, and Cas indulged himself by allowing himself to just _look_.  He reached down and ran his fingers gently through Dean’s hair, repeating the gesture every few seconds.  It was soothing to Dean, and he unexpectedly found his eyelids drooping.  The rest of the family was quietly chatting, creating a comforting sort of background noise.  Between the soft voices, Cas’ fingers in his hair, the gentle weight of the amulet on his chest and the general atmosphere of finally being part of a family again, Dean felt himself drifting off to sleep there in Cas’ lap.

Cas refused to move, letting Dean sleep.  Eventually everyone else trickled out, as there was Christmas dinner to prepare.  Cas remained, and Dean slept on.

* * *

 

When dinner was finally done, Dean and Cas were fetched for the meal.  Dean figured out rather quickly where Cas’ ideology about big holiday meals came from when he was faced with a rather mountainous pile of food when he arrived in the dining room. 

“Okay, that turkey is way too big to be legal,” were the first words out of Dean’s mouth when he stopped in the middle of the doorway, eyeing the table warily.  Laughter bounced around the room at his reaction. 

Cas and Dean very pointedly sat beside each other at the table. Gabriel and Balthazar had no reason to try and pull any tricks on them, but neither were willing to risk it.  Before Cas could sit down, Dean rushed forward, and with a bratty smile, he pulled Cas’ chair out for him, giving a sweeping bow as he did so.  Cas rolled his eyes and very decidedly pulled out the chair beside it, sliding into that seat instead.  Dean chuckled deeply and sat in the chair he’d pulled out for Cas, leaning over and bumping Cas’ shoulder playfully. 

Everyone ate until they were about to burst, as was customary.  Gabriel was the loudest when it came to complaining about how full he was, groaning and leaning back in his chair until Dean was sure he was going to fall over.  Cas fell oddly silent after everyone had gone quiet, and when Dean glanced over, he found a small, distant smile on his lips.  He left him alone for the moment, and people started to trail out of the dining room.  First were Charles and Elizabeth, who announced that they’d be going for a walk out in the snow since the evening was so unusually clear.  Michael excused himself not long after that, though he didn’t say what he would be getting up to for the rest of the evening.

Gabriel and Balthazar were talking quietly amongst themselves, and Dean was watching them absent-mindedly, not even hearing anything they were saying.  He finally turned his attention away from the pair when abruptly Cas stood up.

“I will be right back,” Cas said with a smile, holding his hand out to signal that Dean should stay sitting.  Confusion flashed across Dean’s face, but he shrugged and nodded.  Dean’s attention drifted away from him again as the minutes ticked by.  He thoughts became abstract and formless, thinking being fairly unnecessary in the whole scheme of his current happiness.

He blinked slowly and uncomprehendingly when Cas came back in the room.  “Why are you covered in snow?”  Dean asked, narrowing his eyes.  Cas didn’t say anything, and instead grabbed Dean’s hand, pulling him up out of his chair.  Dean followed without a word at first, at least until his bearings came back to him.

“Woah, where are we going, Cas?”  He demanded.

“It’s time for your other present,” Cas said secretively.  Dean was confused, but didn’t query any further.  Halfway down the hall, Dean realised that Cas had his leather jacket slung over his arm. 

“Are we going somewhere, Cas?”  Cas turned to look at him, rolling his eyes slightly as if to tell him that continuing to ask questions would be a rather futile endeavour.  He handed the jacket over to Dean, who pulled it on as they were walking.  Dean was pulled outside into the snow-covered evening, tugged along to the Impala, which had apparently had all the snow swept off of it.  Cas got into the driver’s side of the Impala without a word, waiting patiently for Dean to get in on his side, which he did.  He was starting to get excited and intensely curious.

Cas was silent throughout the entire drive, though he still had the strangely distant, content smile on his face that he’d had before.  Dean glanced over at him often, trying to puzzle out the secret with no success.  He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Balthazar that he knew nothing of Fairbanks, so he was next to useless at trying to figure out their destination. 

Cas suddenly pulled the Impala to the side of the road, turning the vehicle off and climbing out, still without a single word to Dean.  Dean scrambled out of the car after him, standing by as Cas popped the trunk open and pulled out several thick blankets.  He followed along as Cas led him down a little beaten path into the thin treeline at the side of the road.  They quickly came to a rather large clearing, where Cas promptly started to spread out the thickest of the blankets across the snow. 

“Come here,” Cas said softly as he sat in the middle of the blanket, somewhat spreading the other blankets out too.  Dean sat beside Cas and immediately found himself being pushed onto his back.  The sky was obscured by Cas’ face, his blue eyes dominating Dean’s view. 

“I didn’t exactly buy this present.  It is one that Alaska miraculously allowed me to give today,” Cas murmured obscurely before leaning down to kiss Dean gently, just for a moment.  He pulled away, moving to the side, and a gasp immediately escaped Dean. The sky above them was completely, stunningly clear of any and all clouds.  Not only was Dean suddenly faced with an entire sky full of twinkling, beautiful stars, but so too was he faced with the greens and reds and pinks of the Northern Lights.  He’d only ever seen them vaguely in Anchorage, but never to that extent.  Never had he seen them so clearly before. 

Cas sat slightly to the side, just looking down at Dean.  He had grown up in Fairbanks, he had seen the lights more times than he could remember, had counted the stars more times than he knew.  Right then, right there, all he wanted to see was Dean, all he wanted to see was Dean’s eyes lighting up with a beautiful sort of wonder.  His eyes were wide, his mouth just slightly open, his cheeks just a little flushed from the cold and in that moment, he was quite simply the most beautiful thing Castiel could remember ever seeing.  A smile stretched at his cold lips as he watched the emotions flicker across Dean’s face, content to simply watch the effect his “gift” was having on his lover.

Dean, in a thousand years, never could have voiced everything he was feeling just then.  Joy.  Wonder.  Amazement.  Adoration.  Contentment.  Comfort.  The list went on, and so he stopped trying to categorise it and resigned himself to simply _feeling_.  He forced his eyes away from the sky for a moment, turning them instead on Cas, finding Castiel’s gaze already on him.  He was almost as taken aback by Cas’ expression as he was by the canvas of light and stars above him.  There was a deep, unfiltered tenderness in his blue eyes, in those eyes that at that moment reflected every colour, every light that the sky was projecting. 

“Cas, I don’t know what to say,” Dean breathed, the words coming out as a crystalline puff of air. 

“Then please, do not say anything,” Cas responded softly.  He laid down as if to indicate that Dean should do the same, which he did.  Their sides and shoulders were lined up, the touch anchoring them to each other.  Dean’s eyes traced the heavens again and again, gaze darting from the stars to the lights and then back again.  He traced possible shapes in the over abundance of stars, mapping out his own personal constellations.  Despite the cold that was trying to seep into every inch of his being, he felt warm.  He was glowing from the inside out.  He shifted closer to Cas, resting partially on his chest, and Cas looped an arm around his shoulders. 

Dean’s thoughts drifted even as his eyes continued drink in the sky.  He had felt so alone for so long after he’d lost Adam, despite Sam trying his hardest to be there for him.  He didn’t feel as though he had anything like a home until Castiel found him, cold and shivering on his little square of pavement.  It was that moment, though, that moment there in the snow, under the Northern Lights that Dean finally felt completely and totally at home.  He huffed out a tiny laugh at the revelation.  He’d found himself a home beneath the stars, with a beautiful man whose blue eyes shattered the heavens into tiny pieces.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really proud of this one.  
> And no, this is not the end of the fic, in case you think it is. There's still quite a bit left to it.


	19. Take My Feathers and Weave Me a Nest

**Day After New Year’s**

“Is that everything that you brought with you?  It isn’t exactly a short drive to pop by if you forget something,” Balthazar was saying as he tucked Dean and Cas’ bags into the back of the Impala. The last week of their stay had been both peaceful and wonderful, but the two knew they needed to get home. 

“Yes, I have already double checked both mine and Dean’s rooms,” Cas responded with a nod.

“Not that Dean exactly used his room for very long,” Gabriel commented with a little snicker.  Cas rolled his eyes, but his gaze did slide to the front of the house, where Dean had just stepped out.  He headed towards the Impala, but suddenly stopped, turning towards Michael, who had just come out of the house behind him.  Cas was too far away to hear what was being said.

“Dean, might I have a word with you before you and my brother go back to Anchorage?”  Michael asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture one of ease.  Dean nodded.  “I just wanted to thank you, Dean,” Michael continued softly.  Dean noticed that his eyes, while not being nearly as intense as Castiel’s, were a shade of blue as well.  They had some sort of emotion in them that he couldn’t quite identify.  Dean cocked his head slightly to the side.

“Thank me for what?” 

“For Castiel.  For taking care of him.”  Dean laughed outright at that.

“You have it all backwards, Michael.  Cas is the one who has been taking care of him.  He’s been taking care of me since he picked me up off the streets, like the mangy stray I was,” Dean said, shaking his head lightly.

“I don’t think you quite understand.  You haven’t known Castiel as long as I have, Dean,” Michael said with a small smile.  “I admit that I wasn’t always the best big brother to Castiel.  Gabriel was always closer to him when Castiel was a child, but I have always, and will continue to, care deeply for both of my brothers.”  He paused, gathering his thoughts.  “Castiel was never really the happiest boy.  School was not kind to him.  He was quiet and bookish and _so_ very smart, I guess it made him easy to pick on.  He came home miserable more often than not, even though he tried to hide it.  He was such a good kid.  You have no idea how many times I had to keep Gabriel from putting grade schoolers in the hospital.”  Dean’s eyebrows had pulled together, the corners of his lips pulling down.  He glanced over his shoulder at Cas, who had never really let on to this aspect of his childhood.  He figured Cas had been a nerd in school, but he didn’t realise he’d gotten a bad time for it from other kids.  Cas’ eyes were already trained on him when he glance over, and Dean raised a hand and waved, smiling brightly.  Cas nodded and turned back to Gabriel.

“I have never seen Castiel this happy, Dean.”  Michael said after a minute of silence.  “Not since he was very small.  When he smiles, it’s real.  I think he’s been extremely lonely for a very long time, and now he has you.”  Dean glanced back up at Michael, who was smiling warmly.  “And I thank you for that.”  He laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and for a moment, Dean almost wondered if Michael was going to hug him.  He didn’t, he just nodded and said, “Have a safe trip home, Dean.”  Dean nodded and Michael slid his hand away, heading back inside.  Dean stood there for a few seconds, taking a moment to process everything before turning and continuing on his way to the Impala. 

The rest of the goodbyes were quick, but definitely heartfelt.  Elizabeth hugged Dean tightly, telling him that she already considered him a part of the family.  Charles shook his hand firmly and gave him a warm smile that reminded Dean very much of Michael.  Gabriel and Balthazar nearly scared Dean out of his skin when they both decided it would be a good idea to pounce on him at the same time, screaming, “ _Group hug!_ ” as they did so.  Dean ended up with his face in the snow, Balthazar and Gabriel laughing on top of him, Cas chortling off to the side.

“Gerroff me!”  Dean grunted, shoving the two of them as hard as he could, sending them both sprawling across the snow.  Cas stepped forward, still chuckling, and offered a hand to help Dean to his feet, rolling his eyes at his impossible brother.

“Let’s get going before they decide to attack you again, alright?”  Cas said, brushing snow off of Dean’s jacket.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean said good naturedly.  The Novaks, except Michael, who had stayed inside, stood waving until the Impala had pulled out of the driveway.  Dean watched them until they were out of sight.

* * *

 

“Huh.  The apartment seems bigger than I remember,” Dean commented as he dropped his bag on the floor beside the couch.  He kicked off his shoes as he continued,  “I guess being at that huge place made the apartment seem smaller, I dunno.”  Cas didn’t comment, choosing to simply close the door behind him.  Dean glanced around the apartment.  It seemed different somehow, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on the change.  There was a definite difference, but not an unpleasant one.  His thoughts were interrupted when Cas suddenly spoke.

"So, in light of recent developments, I thought perhaps we could rethink sleeping quarters, Dean.”  Dean turned towards him, raising an eyebrow curiously.  "I do not think it is necessary that you sleep on the couch anymore," Cas continued nonchalantly.  "I am worried, however, that my bed may not be... comfortable enough for you."  His voice took on a lower register as he took a few steps towards Dean, sliding his trench coat off and tossing it across the back of the couch.  Dean's breath caught in his throat as Cas' implications started to make sense to him.  "Perhaps we should test it out properly tonight to make sure that it is satisfactory for you."  His voice was practically a purr as he stepped right up to Dean, his hands going to Dean's hips.  He slowly began to walk Dean backwards towards the bedroom.  With each step, Cas’ fingers rucked up Dean’s shirt a little more, his cold fingers sliding up onto the skin of Dean’s sides.  Once again, Dean was reminded of the true meaning of eye _contact_.  Cas held his gaze, continuing to move them back towards the bedroom with careful, measured steps.  He dug his fingers, just a little, into Dean’s side, and a shock went up his spine.

The back of Dean’s knees bumped into the edge of the bed and he found himself tumbling backwards onto the mattress, bouncing a little as he hit.  Cas followed quickly, hovering over Dean, looking down at him with a downright possessive look to his eyes.  His knees were planted next to Dean’s hips, his hands pressing into the bed next to Dean’s shoulders.

“So,” Cas said, his voice barely a breath as he leaned down closer.  “Do you think it will be satisfactory?”  His lips skimmed across the skin of Dean’s throat, thoroughly enjoying the hitch in Dean’s breathing.

“I don’t know yet, haven’t had the time to figure it out,” Dean muttered, his voice husky.  He was determined to _try_ to play Cas’ game, even if he was quickly losing the ability to breathe, let alone think.  Cas chuckled deeply in his chest, and the sound vibrated through the entirety of the relatively dark bedroom. 

“Do not worry, I will make sure that you are quite satisfied.”  Cas dipped his head down as if he was going to kiss Dean, but stopped, hovering less than half an inch from Dean’s lips.  Even in the almost-darkness, Cas’ eyes shimmered deep blue. 

“The apartment feels different now, did you notice?”  Cas murmured, leaning down to kiss him just once, for just a second.  “Do you know why?”  Dean opened his mouth to try and form some sort of answer, but Cas stilled him with another kiss, taking advantage of his already parted lips.  His tongue slipped in, sliding past Dean’s, the sudden but not unwelcome intrusion making Dean groan.  Dean’s hands slid up to Cas’ hips.  He dug his fingers into Cas’ hipbones slightly, having found out previously just how sensitive they were.  Cas hissed in surprise, momentarily lapsing in concentration.  Dean used his moment of surprise to flip him suddenly, hauling him up further onto the bed.  He planted his knees on either side of Cas’ hips and sat up a little, looking down at his lover triumphantly. 

“It’s probably that damn telescope of yours, taking up so much room,” Dean said with a laugh, starting to lean down over Cas, placing his hands on either side of Cas’ shoulders.  Cas smirked slightly, and Dean saw what was about to happen in the split second before it did.  Cas reached up and gripped Dean’s wrists and in a quick movement had flipped them over again, except now he had Dean’s arms pinned down on either side of him.

 _“No,_ ” Cas growled lightly.  “This apartment isn’t just mine anymore, you’re not just staying here.  This is _ours_.  It belongs to _us_.”  The deep grumble of Cas’ voice, as always, worked its way through Dean in a way he would never be able to understand, the words digging at him, uncovering the truth.  Cas was right, that was the difference he had felt when they’d returned.  “And now... Now we’ll officially make it ours.  Consummate it.”  Cas smirked again. Dean wanted to make some sort of remark, anything, but his words dried up in his throat, especially when Cas leaned down, starting to trail kisses from the hollow of Dean’s throat up. 

Dean tilted his head back slightly, giving Cas more access to the sensitive skin of his neck.  Cas kissed his way to the joint of Dean’s neck and shoulder and nibbled at the spot, laving his tongue over area quickly.  A shudder worked its way from the base of Dean’s spine up.

Cas very suddenly moved off of Dean, moving off to the side. Dean laid there, panting and confused.  He pushed himself up on his elbows to look at Cas, who was perched on the edge of the bed, looking at him with an almost predatory curiosity. 

“Take off your shirt, Dean.”  His voice was gravelly, far deeper than normal.  Dean stayed where he was, looking at Cas.

“What?”

“I said take off your shirt,” Cas responded immediately, leaning forward a little.  Dean found himself almost mesmerised by the tone of his voice, but he started to protest again, and Cas leaned further, putting a hand in the middle of Dean’s chest, pushing him back into the bed, forcing Dean to hold his gaze.  “Take off. Your shirt.”  Dean stared up at him for a moment, and Cas slowly withdrew his hand, leaning back into his previous position.  Dean sat up, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it slowly up and over his head, tossing it to the side.  Cas watched, smirking mischievously as the shirt fell to the floor somewhere on the other side of the room.  His eyes skimmed the planes of Dean’s now bare chest and stomach. 

Momentarily forgetting himself, he leaned forward, laying his palm over Dean’s heart, spreading his fingers out slowly.  His fingers gently moved down, leaving a burning trail across Dean’s chest and abdomen until he reached the top of Dean’s jeans.  He hooked a finger under the waistband and began tugging downwards.

“I can’t help but notice that you’re still fully clothed,” Dean said haltingly, his voice cracking with arousal.  Cas’s fingers paused and he leveled a look at Dean, quieting him.

“I think perhaps you do not understand who is in charge here, Dean.”  The words sent a shock through Dean’s body, all the breath in his body leaving him in one huff.  He felt himself slowly giving himself over to Cas, excitement trilling through his body at the idea of Cas’ orders.  It was unexpected and thrilling, and felt just the right amount of terror. 

Cas quickly finished divesting Dean of his clothes, taking a second to admire his now completely bare lover.  He hovered over Dean, kissing a gentle trail from the hollow of his neck down his chest, down his abdomen.  Dean’s skin crawled pleasantly at the fleeting touches, his breaths quickening slightly.  When he reached the deep V of Dean’s hips, he stopped, drawing a whine of protest out of Dean. 

“Stay there and just watch.  I think we both know that you enjoy watching me anyway,” Cas said with another smirk.  Dean tried to calm himself, his heart pounding frantically at the inside of his ribs.  He pushed himself up onto his elbows, watching as Cas slipped off the bed.  Cas only looked away when it was necessary to pull his sweater off, dropping it onto the floor by his feet, otherwise watching Dean as he stripped himself slowly of each article of clothing.  Dean’s eyes roamed Cas’ body almost hungrily, and Cas appreciated the attention.

Cas strode back to the bed, and a little memory wiggled its way to the surface.  His lips twitched and he muttered, “I must be awful pretty for you to be staring like that, Dean.”  Dean’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but before he had time to say anything in return, Cas was on the bed, hovering over him again.  Dean tried to recover himself quickly, scrambling for a response. 

“You once told me you were an Angel of the Lord, right Cas?”  Dean said, his voice almost the mere equivalent of a broken pant.  Cas tilted his head, a mischievous curiosity to his expression.

“I believe I did, yes,” Cas responded in a whisper of a voice.  He brought a hand to Dean’s cheek, a thumb smoothing over Dean’s freckled cheek.  “And I would like to test the theory that every freckle is a kiss from an angel.” 

Dean’s witty comeback was lost after that.

* * *

 

They both lay awake, on the verge of sleep but unwilling to succumb to the inky folds just yet.  They were all tangled up in the sheets, legs hooked together under the covers, laying on their sides just looking at each other.  Hard as he was trying, Dean’s eyes occasionally dipped closed, though he would quickly force them open soon after.  Cas just watched with endless fascination, sure that he would never grow weary of just _looking_ at Dean.  There was still a pleasant pink tinge to his cheeks that made his beautiful freckles stand out just a little more.

“Dean,” Cas said softly.

“Mm?” 

“Have I ever told you that I love your freckles?”  He asked with a smile, reaching out to skim his fingertips across Dean’s cheeks.  Dean looked mildly surprised.

“Really?”  He inquired, hiding a small yawn with the word.  Cas merely nodded.  “Heh, so my star likes my freckles,” Dean continued, his eyes slipping closed again, this time without opening.

“Your star?”  Cas asked, but Dean was already gone, his body relaxing fully into sleep.  Cas smiled and chuckled almost silently.  He smoothed his hand through Dean’s hair, caressed his face gently and tucked the sheet around him.  Cas hummed quietly to himself, watching Dean while lost in his own thoughts until he finally drifted off to sleep himself.


	20. Appointment With Andromeda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to write a Valentine's Day chapter, I hope you guys like it~  
> Just a warning, in the next chapter, things are going to start changing...

**Valentine’s Day**

The plan had begun to form when Dean had found the old projector in the closet.  The idea had come slowly at first, haltingly, but after a desperate call to his brother, who helped him hammer out the details, everything started to settle deftly into motion.  Cas was too busy with his schoolwork to notice anything amiss in the week preceding Valentine’s Day.  Frankly, Dean wasn’t sure Cas knew what the date was most of the time anymore.  Once school had started back up for him, he’d been getting slammed with work.  It left little time for Dean and Cas to spend together, which had worried Cas at first.  He kept waiting for Dean to get frustrated about his lack of spare time, but all he found was a fierce pride at how hard Cas was working, at how well he was doing, and not a bit of it was faked.  Dean _was_ proud of Cas, but at the same time, also a little worried.  Cas slept very little, ate the barest amount, and never gave himself time to breathe.  Sometimes, it seemed like he was absolutely determined to run himself straight into the ground, and even then Dean wasn’t sure he’d stop.

That was why he’d jumped on the idea the moment it had come to him.  Cas needed just one evening to relax, and Dean wanted to do something for him.  And what day was better than Valentine’s Day?  He hadn’t ever really been the romantic type, but Cas deserved to have something done for him, and Dean couldn’t deny that he was excited himself.

Dean had already arranged with Bobby to have the day off.  “Go ahead.  That idjit works too hard, he needs some downtime.”  He didn’t tell Cas about taking the day off, however, letting himself be dropped off at the shop the morning of Valentine’s Day, like always.

“I’ll see ya later, Cas,” Dean told him before Cas left, as he had become accustomed to.  “You get in there and make me proud of my star, you hear?”  He murmured when he leaned in to kiss Cas goodbye.  It brought a small smile to his lips.  Cas couldn’t be sure where the nickname had originated, probably something to do with his astronomy major.  Whatever it was, he’d taken a liking to it.  No matter how tired he was, it always made him perk up just a little bit.  Cas couldn’t quite figure how he’d managed to survive school without Dean by his side, but he was certainly glad to have him now.

“I will.  I love you, Dean,” Cas whispered back. 

“I love you too.”  Dean got out of the Impala and waved as Cas drove away.  He huffed out a sigh of relief, patting the backpack on his shoulder gratefully.  The last piece of his plan was in the bag, and he’d been terrified that Cas would notice, though he thankfully hadn’t spied the ever bulging backpack during the past week when Dean had been continually bringing it.  In that sense, Cas’ constant exhaustion and inattention was actually useful.

Bobby had agreed to let him borrow his truck for the day, quite willingly in fact.  The gruff old man had taken a liking to Dean, and definitely had a soft spot for Cas.  Dean knew he had several hours before Cas would be coming to pick him up after school, so he decided to double and triple check all of the supplies to ensure that he had everything that he needed.  The hardest part to obtain was the generator, but again, Bobby had been a saint with providing one.  Dean spent his time putting everything into the truck just so, anticipating the evening to come.

“Alright, I’m heading out to set everything up, Bobby!”  Dean finally called out when he was satisfied that everything was ready.

“Just go, you romantic fool,” Bobby grunted back.  Dean laughed and hopped into the truck, heading on his way.

* * *

 

“I am here, Dean!”  Cas called out when he got into the shop.  He was tired--no, he was _exhausted_.   He was frustrated and stressed and he missed Dean.  School was a heavy burden on him just then, as much as he enjoyed it.  The weight on his shoulders seemed to lift a little when Dean came out of Bobby’s office with a huge, lopsided grin covering his face.

“Dean,” he murmured to himself, and at that moment, it was the most healing word ever to exist.  He glowed as he said it, and rushed forward to Dean.

“Hey.  How’s my star?”  Dean asked, wrapping an arm around Cas’ waist, pulling him into a tight hug.  He truly did like the nickname for Cas.  It fit.  Cas was the star that had led him home and had continued to shine, just for Dean.  He waved to Bobby as they left the shop.

“I’m okay,” Cas answered.  Dean saw a completely different answer on his face.

“You’re a bad liar, but that’s okay.  I’m taking you out to the diner tonight.  It’s been forever since we’ve been, and you could use a breather,”  Dean said as he slid into the driver’s seat of the Impala.  Cas didn’t even complain, just went around to the passenger seat without a word, cracking a small smile.  He knew that he should have rejected the idea and insisted on going home to study, but he couldn’t find it in him to say no to Dean, especially when he seemed so unexpectedly earnest.

They got their usuals at the diner, and Dean did his best to make Cas laugh as much as possible, which turned out to be a pretty successful endeavour.  Cas was definitely tense, but as they ate, Dean could see some of the tension lifting off him.  Cas just needed to take time to laugh and relax, that was all, just as Dean suspected. 

If Cas mentioned school, Dean would somehow turn it into a joke so that Cas wouldn’t start getting stressed again.  He told funny stories about happenings at the shop, motioning wildly with his hands during the high points in the story, gesturing to imaginary places in the shop, imitating the gruff grumble of Bobby’s voice.  More than once he had Cas unable to breathe from laughing so hard.  It was good to see him smile and laugh.  Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard Cas laughing.

They took their time eating.  They got dessert--Dean got a slice of pie, Cas got a milkshake--and continued to talk and joke around throughout dessert.  Dean kept a careful eye on how the day was progressing outside, thankful that the sky was miraculously clear.  He’d gotten very lucky on that count. 

When they finally finished, they paid their bill and strolled back out to the Impala.  Dean didn’t say anything, and Cas didn’t notice at first that he wasn’t driving them back to the apartment. His eyes skimmed the streets outside the passenger side window blankly at first, but when it occurred to him that they were going the wrong direction, he turned his head slowly to Dean.

“Dean, where are you going?”  Dean looked over and gave Cas an innocent smile, a slight shrug of the shoulders and a wink, and then turned his eyes back to the road.  Cas’ eyebrows shot up in surprised confusion, but he didn’t attempt any more questions.  He knew it was useless, Dean had _that_ face on. He wasn’t going to budge.  Dean drove them a little out of Anchorage, coming to Chugach State Park. 

“Dean?”  Cas asked softly, more confused than before.  Dean pulled the Impala off to the side of the road and turned off the engine, looking out his window towards the treeline.  He was grinning from ear to ear, but forced himself to compose his expression.  He wanted so desperately to do it right, make it as romantic as he could, even if he wasn’t a natural romantic.

“Do you know what today is, Cas?”  He asked casually, finally turning to look.  He almost lost control of his pokerface at the sight of Cas.  His eyes were wide with confusion, his head was canted to the side slightly and he just looked so damned _cute_ without even meaning to.

“Erm...”  Dean pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Cas.”  He watched recognition and regret wash across Castiel’s features, and held up a hand before the apologies could come.

“Doesn’t matter.  C’mon, get out of the car.  I’ve got a little surprise for you.”  Dean obeyed his own words and stepped out of the Impala, glancing around. 

“Is it even legal for us to be here right now, Dean?”  Cas asked as he got out.  Dean turned and gave him a one-shouldered shrug and a cheeky smirk, and then turned towards a slight trail, motioning that Cas should follow him.

Cas trailed behind cautiously, completely unsure about what to expect.  They walked for awhile, the trees thickening the further they delved into the evergreen, then finally opening up into something of a clearing.  Cas stopped and stared at the set up.  Dean had spread a tarp out over the snow, and on top of that, he’d spread out one of the thick blankets from the apartment.  _“How did I not notice that was missing?”_ Cas thought to himself, staring at the blanket for a few seconds longer than necessary before continuing to survey the area. 

There was a generator on the edge of the tarp, and a backpack beside that.  Cas vaguely remembered Dean bringing the backpack with him each day, but it had never even occurred to him to ask about it.  He raised his eyes from the blanket scene, momentarily confused by the white apparition, but quickly figured out it was simply a large, white sheet hung between two trees, just high enough that the bottom hem barely brushed the snow.  Dean knelt by the generator, opening the backpack that was beside it.  He pulled out a DVD case and the DVD player. 

“How did I not notice that you had taken these things from the apartment?”  Cas demanded, still not quite comprehending.  Dean rolled his eyes and continued setting everything up, ignoring Cas’ question.

“Just come sit, Cas, please?  Let me have my fun.”  Dean smiled up at him, and Cas instantly melted, stumbling forward.  He knelt in the middle of the blanket, watching Dean, who was decidedly keeping the cover of the DVD from him, no matter how much he tried to see.

Dean made a small, satisfied noise when he’d finished his work, the projector adjusted to perfectly shine on the white sheet.  Night was just falling, and the projection was showing brilliantly.  He settled in next to Cas, snagging the spare blanket that was folded next to the generator and unfolding it carefully so he could spread it over him and Cas, tucking it in gently around them.  The familiar strains of the theme of _Little Women_ filtered through the clearing, and Cas’ eyes lit up immediately. 

“Dean!”  He exclaimed softly.  Dean shifted carefully so he was behind Cas, wrapping both arms around him and drawing him in close, kissing him on the cheek softly and nuzzling his face into his neck.

“You needed a break.  You’ve been working so hard, and I’m very proud of my star, but you needed to relax.  When was the last time you have even sat down and watched this, hm?”  He teasingly poked Cas’ side, rocking both of them back and forth gently.  Cas smiled, but didn’t provide an answer.  It had been quite awhile, and they both knew it.  He could already feel all the tension just melting off of him.  He leaned back into Dean’s chest, resting his head on his shoulder.  Dean chuckled when Cas started mumbling the lines along with the actors, each line practically memorised from the dozens and dozens of times he had seen it.  Dean whispered the couple of lines he knew here and then, which delighted Cas even further.

He rocked Cas back and forth and held him tighter near the end of the movie when a couple of tears slipped down Cas’ face, and when it was over, they just sat there for a little while, mutually enjoying each other’s company.  Dean finally released Cas, moving to turn the projector, DVD player and generator off.  When he turned back to look at Cas, he found him laid out across the blanket, staring up at the night sky. 

“When I was a child, and I’d had a bad day at school, sometimes I would not tell anyone at home.  I did not want to inconvenience them with my sorrow or my anger.  I would go to my window at night, and if it was a clear one, I would stare at the stars.  I would promise myself that someday, I would go to see them personally, not just look up at them from behind the safety of my window.”  Cas seemed to be talking to the air around him, not necessarily to Dean. 

Dean curled up next to Cas, watching Cas’ eyes trace the heavens as he continued to speak.  “I would dream that the sky was like an ocean and I could go swimming with the stars.  It was my favourite dream and my favourite daydream.  That is why I study astronomy now.  I have a promise to try to keep to myself that someday I’ll go swim with the stars.”  Cas finally turned his head to look at Dean, who was smiling gently.  “Is that a silly dream?  Sometimes...it seems like it is.”  Dean shook his head immediately.

“No, it’s a great dream, Cas.  I’m sure those stars,” he motioned vaguely towards the sky, “Will love to meet _my_ star.”  He moved closer, capturing Cas’ face between his hands, kissing him gently.  “And I promise, someday, I’ll make sure you get to go see the stars.”  Cas curled into Dean’s side, resting his head against Dean’s strong chest.

Eventually, they disentangled themselves from each other, agreeing that it was high time they got back to the apartment.  Fortunately, Cas didn’t have class the following day.  It took them a couple trips to get everything loaded into the Impala, and they both agreed that they could unpack everything in the morning.  The drive back was peacefully quiet, both absorbed into their own thoughts until they were almost home.

“I haven’t told anyone about that dream before,” Cas commented so quietly that Dean almost didn’t hear it.  He cut a glance to the side.

“Then, why did you tell me?”  He asked.

“I am not sure, but I am glad that I told you,” Cas murmured, his eyes never leaving the passenger window.  Without looking over, Dean reached over and took Cas’ hand for a moment, squeezing it gently.  He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, but Cas seemed to understand, as he returned the pressure.  Their fingers remained entwined until they pulled up to the apartment, and even then they both sat in a sea of their own thoughts for awhile, linked only by the small touch.


	21. Swirling Galaxies, Born of Chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Times do change.

****_It has been highly suggested to me that I put a warning right here and right now about this chapter and the following. If you are triggered by character deaths, then I suggest you stop reading here. I apologise for anyone who did not see this warning, it was never my intention to harm anyone or bring distress to anyone. If you are not bothered by character deaths, please, by all means proceed, and know that I appreciate every single one of you and that I cannot be more glad to have you reading my work. Thank you and I'm sorry._ ** **

* * *

 

**Late March**

Dean blinked in confusion as the TV suddenly clicked off.  He turned to look at Cas, who sat the remote down on the couch between them and stood, going to his stereo and CD collection.  He started to flip through the CDs.

“I want to do something,” Cas said vaguely.  Dean remained sitting, staring at Cas’ back as he continued to flick through his CDs, obviously looking for a specific one.  Dean waited for Cas to elaborate, but quickly figured out that he wasn’t going to.

“Do what?” 

“You will see,” was the only response he got.  Cas plucked the CD he had been looking for out of the CD rack and put it into the stereo.  He adjusted the volume, then immediately turned and went to Dean, taking both of his hands and yanking him to his feet.

“We are going to dance,” Cas said happily.  Dean felt more than little ridiculous and his brows pulled together as Cas put a hand at his waist, taking Dean's hand and placing it at Cas' waist.  Soft music finally started up in the background.

"Cas, I don't know how to dance."  Cas merely smiled and pulled Dean close to him to whisper in his ear.

"Let me lead.  Don't worry about it, just step, then breathe, then step, then breathe again."  Dean's breath hitched in his throat at the deep rumble of Cas' voice in his ear, but he began to follow Cas' simple steps as his partner began to move.  He stumbled a few times, but Cas helped him to recover quickly without even breaking his own stride.  Cas held Dean's eyes with his own, and Dean couldn't help but feel that they were irreversibly tied together by their gaze alone in that moment, brilliant blue and moss green connecting in a way that was both stronger and more intimate than skin-to-skin contact could ever hope to be. 

"Imagine we are in a forest, Dean.  Forget this apartment.  It is just you, it is just me.  We are just having a conversation. Dancing is just a conversation without words," Cas murmured.  Dean began to fall into the simple steps with more and more ease, relaxing.  The music flowed through him, and Cas smiled very softly as he felt his partner finally give into the dance.  "That's it, love..."  He whispered.  Dean could see it.  The living room seemed to vanish, and green light seemed to touch Castiel's pale skin, lighting his eyes with strange hues that made his blue eyes seem even more unnatural than before.  The inexplicable image caught Dean off guard, and he found himself staring while his feet seemed to move of their own accord. 

"I love you, Castiel," Dean gasped out suddenly, his voice almost muted.  In that moment, his every heartbeat seemed to be just for Cas, every shift of his muscles dedicated solely to the beautiful man that he was holding close.  They were in an imaginary other-place that belonged to them and them alone, and in that place Dean could see Cas so _perfectly_.  His breath was taken away by the moment, the enormity of it taking control of his thoughts.  Cas was beautiful, he was glowing, and he was Dean’s.  Cas' eyes softened, and he smiled gently again.

"As I love you, Dean Winchester," he whispered back, leaning his head forward to rest on Dean's strong shoulder.  "As I love you."  Dean held him close.  Their dancing had become little more than swaying with a little shuffle of their feet, but neither minded, least of all Dean.  It was nice just to hold each other, to be near enough that they could hear the beating of the other’s hearts as they moved in unison.  There was something deeply comforting in it, something very _right_ about it.  They danced together and whispered softly through the rest of the CD.  They stood in each other’s embrace for awhile after the music had petered off.  Finally, however, they made their way to bed, hands entwined, quiet and happy.

* * *

 

Dean awoke in a cold sweat, his breaths coming in short, rough pants.  The nightmare slipped away immediately with consciousness, and he was left with absolutely no memory of it.  He tried to pull it back to him, tried to remember it, but with no luck whatsoever.  He turned his head and found the curve of Cas’ back right beside him.  Watching the gentle rise and fall of his lover’s breathing helped him to calm down, but he still couldn’t force himself to get back to sleep.  He rolled over to look at the time.  It was a little after 4:00am.

Groaning quietly, he silently rolled out of bed.  He knew that Cas would be up in a couple hours.  Dean wandered out into the living room, flicking on a couple lights here and there as he went.  He stood still for a minute, attempting to use his still groggy brain to decide what to do.  Quite suddenly, he was gripped with the desire to cook. Making breakfast for Cas before he woke would work.  Padding his way over to the kitchen, Dean started poking through the refrigerator and cabinets, trying to decide on what to make.

He settled on quiche.  It had been a favourite of Sammy’s and Adam’s back when Dean had been taking care of them, during the bad years.  He hadn’t made it in ages, but he remembered the recipe quite well regardless.  It was their mom’s recipe, simple, but still delicious if properly made. 

A spare pie-crust was in the freezer.  Cas always kept them now, a side-effect of Dean’s rampant obsession with pie.  He pulled the milk, cheese, eggs, mushrooms, bacon and onion out, setting them all down on the counter.  Humming a nameless tune to himself, he set to work, blind-baking the crust, cooking the bacon and mushrooms, chopping the onions and prepping the custard.

Dean liked to cook.  There wasn’t much room for thinking, just purely focusing on his hands working, keeping up a rhythm.  A few memories of Sammy and Adam surfaced, but he didn’t try to chase them away.  He was oddly at peace.  It did make him miss Sam and Adam, and while he could do nothing about missing Adam--that thought did give him a tiny twinge of pain--he did resolve to call Sam soon.  His hands worked steadily and easily at his various tasks. 

He settled down on the couch to watch aimless early morning TV programmes while the quiche cooked away in the oven.  He flicked through various channels before settling on _How It’s Made_ reruns, which he admittedly got quite caught up in.  Cas got up shortly before breakfast was due to be finished.

“Dean?” He called as he stumbled groggily down the hall.

“I’m here, Cas,” Dean called back, glancing over the back of the couch.  Cas stopped just behind him, yawning and rubbing his face to try and wake up, his hand running through the tangled mess of short, thick black hair.  He suddenly paused, sniffing, reminding Dean of an inquisitive puppy.

“What is that?”

“Breakfast.  Go take your shower and it should be ready by the time you’re out and dressed,” Dean stood and stretched, smiling a bit at Cas’ sleepy expression.  Cas nodded after a moment and turned back down the hall to go take his shower.  Dean chuckled at his very non-morning person partner and headed to the kitchen to pull the quiche out of the oven.

“Should be ready by the time he’s out...”  Dean muttered to himself as he started to get plates and silverware out of the cupboard.  The quiche smelled both delightful and nostalgic at the same time.  Just as he’d predicted, Cas was showered and dressed about twenty minutes later, quietly making his way into the kitchen as Dean was starting to slice and serve breakfast.

“You made quiche?  What time did you get up?”  Cas asked as he sat at their quaint little dining table.

“A little after four, I had a nightmare.” Dean answered as he put a plate in front of Cas.  Cas looked up, concerned, but Dean quickly tried to assuage his worries.  “I can’t remember it, but I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to make breakfast.”  Dean sat in his own spot, popping a bite of the fresh quiche into his mouth.  A million more memories surfaced at the taste.  Cas gave an appreciative groan as he took a bite. 

“This is amazing, Dean!”  He exclaimed once he had swallowed, and Dean smiled in response.

“It was Sammy and Adam’s favourite back when I was taking care of them.  It’s an old recipe of Mom’s, actually.”  Cas’ eyes snapped to Dean’s face, looking for any signs of grief, but, to his relief and somewhat surprise, he found none.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m fine.  It feels good to remember Adam and Mom and not have it hurt for once.”  He smiled to show that he was being sincere.  Cas searched his expression for a couple seconds more, and then let out a breath of relief, returning his attention to the quiche.

“This really is delicious, Dean.  You should make this for us more often.”  Dean shrugged his shoulders lightly and finished his breakfast.  He got up and started to clear the table, clean the kitchen and put away the leftovers while Cas went to get his things together for school.

“Dean, have you seen my trench coat?”  Cas suddenly called into the kitchen.

“Didn’t you put it in to wash?”  Dean called back.  There was a second of silence, then a groan of frustration.

“Yes, I did.”  Dean smiled at the disgruntled voice.

“Just wear my jacket today,” he said as he came out of the kitchen.  Cas turned towards him, biting his bottom lip lightly.

“Are you sure?”

“Would I offer if I wasn’t sure?”  Dean asked as he swooped in, grabbing Cas in a hug, kissing him briefly on the lips.  The kiss was enough to take Cas’ breath away for a moment.

“I suppose not,” Cas finally responded, wriggling out of Dean’s arms playfully before retrieving the leather jacket from the closet.  He tugged it on and turned to Dean, who stepped forward and adjusted it on his shoulders slightly.  He smiled and admired the jacket on Cas’ lean form. 

Leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Cas’ cheek, he whispered, “You look good in leather.”  Cas’ cheeks flamed with colour, and he pressed his slightly chapped lips together, making no comment.  Dean laughed at the reaction and waited for Cas to grab his messenger bag.

“You got everything?”  Dean asked before they headed out.  Cas checked his bag to ensure all his papers and books were there, then nodded, snagging his keys off the hook on the wall.  The drive to the shop to drop Dean off was spent in companionable silence.  Dean’s thoughts were still lingering around Adam.  He was glad to be able to remember the kid without being doubled up with pain and tears.  It was odd, but freeing. 

“I’ll see you later, go make me proud of my star, like usual,” Dean leaned over and whispered, kissing Cas softly when they pulled up to the shop. 

“I will.  I love you, Dean.” 

“I love you too, Cas.”  Dean got out of the Impala and stood, waving until Cas was out of sight.  Cas sighed lightly.  It was one of those rare days when he actually didn’t want to go to class.  He’d have much preferred to have stayed home, or even stayed at the shop to watch Dean work.  He’d done that once before when Bobby had asked Dean to come in on a Saturday.  Cas had been fascinated by the look of concentration and air of ease that Dean wore as he worked.  

Cas couldn’t help the small smile that slipped to his lips as the familiar notes of Kansas’ “Carry On My Wayward Son” drifted faintly through the Impala.  He started nodding his head to the beat, a seemingly mandatory action with this particular song.  Reaching over to turn up the volume knob, his brow creased when his fingers didn’t immediately find what they were looking for.  His gaze cut across to the centre console, and he made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat when he finally found the knob.  _“Carry on my wayward son, there’ll be peace when you are done.”_

As he looked up, he was confused by the sudden light and colour that was everywhere, the world seemed to stop moving for a long, pronounced second, and then there was simply too much of _everything_.  There was a crunching noise of metal on metal, the shrill scream of tires on protesting asphalt, the haunting melody of glass shattering.  The music still wasn’t quite loud enough to rise above this new melancholic symphony.  _“Lay your weary head to rest, don’t you cry no more.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And very often the universe gives no warning before destroying beauty.


	22. The True Nature of Shooting Stars

**Same Day - 6 Hours Later**

“Yo Bobby!  Turn up the music, huh?  I hear Kansas!”  Dean called from underneath the car he was currently working on.  There was a pause, then the notes of “Dust In The Wind” by Kansas drifted to him more clearly than before.  “Thanks!”  He yelled again, vaguely hearing a grunt of acknowledgement from Bobby.  

“All we do, crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see.  Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind,” Dean mumbled, somewhat singing along as he worked.  The phone in the office suddenly started to ring, the obtrusive sound piercing through the music with each shrill ring.

“You got that, Bobby?”  Dean called out.  Bobby yelled back that he had it as he hurried to the office.  

“Singer Auto Body Repair, this is Bobby.”  Dean could barely hear Bobby’s voice drifting out of the office.  Dean gave a little snort of laughter.  Answering the phone was as formal as Bobby ever got.  His tiny smile, however, quickly vanished as he continued to listen.  “Elizabeth?”  Dean pulled himself out from under the van he’d been working on, wiping his grimy hands off on a nearby shop rag.  Could it possibly be Elizabeth _Novak?_  

“Slow down, slow down, I can’t understand a damn thing you’re saying!”  Bobby’s voice rose a little and Dean went to stand in the doorway to the office.  He watched Bobby’s expression go from confused and concerned to outright horrified.

“Dean and I will head right over.  We’ll see you then, Beth,” Bobby said after a moment of silent listening.  His voice had dropped down  to almost a whisper.  He hung up the phone and looked to Dean.

“We’re closing up shop early today.”  Dean’s heart stuttered a little in fear, though he didn’t know why yet.  “The Novaks are on their way from Fairbanks to Alaska Regional Hospital.  Castiel was in a wreck this morning.”  Dean just stood, rooted to the spot, his mind refusing to accept what he had just heard Bobby say.  

“Dean!”  Bobby yelled, jarring Dean into motion.  “We need to get down there.  Now.”  Dean nodded and started closing things up as quickly as he could manage.  They were out in what seemed like no time at all, and hurriedly rushed over to Bobby’s truck.

“He’s going to be in ICU.  They’re only going to be letting family in.  I’m his uncle, you’re his brother,” Bobby spoke rapidfire, pushing the speed limit. “Elizabeth, Charles and Gabriel will be here in about an hour or two.  Beth lost my number and only just remembered.”  Dean nodded curtly and hoped that Bobby saw.  He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t even feel.  All he knew was that Cas was hurt and that he couldn’t get to him fast enough.  

When they arrived at the hospital, they wasted no time in getting to the information desk and requesting Cas’ location.  Or rather, Bobby asked where Cas was and Dean stood by, looking stricken and ill.  

“Castiel Novak?  He was brought in a few hours ago, car accident, probably in ICU?”  Bobby spoke in a clipped tone, his face tight with worry.  The nurse tapped away at her computer.

“Are you family?”  She asked when she looked up, glancing between the two of them.

“I’m his uncle, this here’s his brother Dean, his mother, father and other brother are on their way here right now.”  The nurse nodded and tapped away at her computer for another moment. Dean and Bobby waited as patiently as they could.  Dean shifted his feet uncomfortably.  He hated hospitals.  He hated that he had to be in one, he hated that his star was hurt who knew how badly somewhere in the depths of the damned place.  It smelled of death and antiseptic, which somehow went sickeningly hand-in-hand.

Bobby got the room number and instructions on how to get there, and they immediately set out.  Dean practically ran.  His heart was in his throat, pounding with a terrifying intensity.  They got quite turned around at first, but after asking for directions from a red-haired nurse they happened by, the two finally found him.  Dean burst in without thinking, but he quickly halted.

“Cas?”  Dean stared at the broken thing lying unconscious in the small bed.  He was hooked up to an overwhelming number of machines, covered in a terrifying amount of white bandages and gauze.  He stumbled forward, over to the bed, looking down at what was now Cas.  His hands hovered over him helplessly, terrified that a single touch would break him.  

“Castiel, you idjit...” Bobby muttered from where he stood by the door of the room.  Time seemed to crawl by, the only indication of its’ passing being the tedious ticking of the clock on the wall.  Dean stood there, just staring down at Cas, hoping that with each resounding tick of the clock he might wake up from the nightmare he was surely spinning for himself.  Vaguely, he eventually heard the door click open from behind him, but he didn’t turn to look.  He heard Bobby speak, and heard an unfamiliar man speak, but he didn’t catch the words at first.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognised the fact that it was a doctor talking, and he turned slowly towards the scrawny, white-coated man, but he seemed to be speaking another language altogether.  It was all medical jargon that he couldn’t comprehend.  Thankfully, Bobby spoke up.

“C’mon Doc.  Speak English, dumb it down for us, huh?”  The doctor nodded, trying to smile apologetically.  

“Right.  Right, sorry.  Mister Novak has suffered a serious blow to the head, causing severe enough head trauma to put him into a comatose state.  He has suffered from what is known as Diffuse Axonal Injury, which means that the trauma is widespread throughout his brain.  He has also suffered several broken ribs, a punctured lung, some broken fingers and a fractured leg.”  The words echoed around Dean’s head, bouncing around and breaking everything they touched.  He gasped for air, forcing the lump out of his throat so he could speak.  

“Will he be okay?”  The words grated at him, clawed at his throat.  They were the exact words that he’d asked Adam’s doctor.  He flinched before the answer even came, the distant memory of Adam’s doctor’s negative response from the past filling him with so much dread that he almost missed Cas’ doctor’s response.

“Most of his wounds can be treated with time, and he’s well on the way to stabilising, in fact, we should be able to move him out of the ICU within the next couple of days.”  Dean sighed, relief flooding through him, relief that quickly dissipated as the doctor continued, “However, we can’t be sure yet as to the full effect the blow to his head will have.  He’s in a coma, and if we can’t get the swelling in his brain to go down to reduce the cranial pressure--”  He trailed off, biting the inside of his cheek.  

“Give it to us straight, Doc,” Gabriel piped up from the doorway.  Dean glanced up, and his knees almost buckled at the familiar sight of the Novaks.  Only Balthazar and Michael were missing.  Gabriel’s expression was thunderous.  He looked angry, which Dean couldn’t even begin to try to understand why.  Elizabeth moved past everyone, immediately going to Cas’ side.

“I can’t say anything for sure.  We know so little about comas, know so little about the brain in general...”  The doctor looked grim, taking a deep breath before continuing.  “In cases of DAI, often the patient does not wake from their coma.  Ninety percent remain unconscious.  There is always hope, patients do wake occasionally, but I’m afraid it just doesn’t happen that often.  Everyone is disillusioned by the image of coma patients that television programmes often portray.  More often than not, coma patients do not wake, and if they do, it certainly is not so quickly and suddenly as is portrayed by the media.  It may be awhile before we know, and I need you to be prepared to hear the worst should it come to pass.”  A thick silence fell on the room.  Dean glanced at Gabriel again, who’s eyes were closed, his jaw working, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.  It was Charles who spoke up first.

“Thank you, Doctor...?”  He held out a hand.

“Doctor Fitzgerald, but you can call me Garth, don’t have to be so formal.”  The doctor shook Charles’ hand and glanced over at Elizabeth, who had pulled up a chair to sit by Cas. 

“I’ll leave you all for now.”  Charles nodded and thanked him, and the doctor left.  The heavy silence from before re-cloaked the room, and no one seemed to know what to say.  The only sound in the room was the whirring, intruding noises of the machines that were working constantly with the pure intent to keep Cas alive.  Dean was afraid to look at him again.  He’d looked so fragile before that Dean was terrified a single glance would shatter him into a thousand, unfixable pieces.  

Dean’s entire body was tense, his mind on edge.  The only person in the room who understood why the situation hurt so badly was in a coma.  Adam’s wounds, Cas’ wounds... He squeezed his eyes shut and brought his hands to his face, accidentally letting out a low groan at the tight pain in his chest.  

“Dean?”  Gabriel asked, rushing over to him.  Dean raked his fingers down his face and looked up at Gabriel.  

“Sorry, it’s just...”  He swallowed sharply and closed his eyes again.  “I need--” He choked out, his voice refusing to work properly.  “I need to talk to my brother.  Sammy.  Can I borrow your phone?”   Gabriel looked confused, and he could only imagine that Charles and Elizabeth were too, but he needed to talk to Sam.  He handed Dean his phone, and Dean muttered a soft thank you and stepped out of the room, dialing Sam’s number as he did so.

As the other end started ringing, he started praying that Sam wasn’t in the middle of class.  He collapsed against a wall, sliding down and staring straight ahead as nurses and doctors made their way past.  

“Hello?”  Dean almost started crying with relief at the sound of his brother’s voice.  He wanted to tell himself to buck up and be strong, but at that moment he simply couldn’t summon the strength.

“Sammy,” Dean said in a shattered voice.  

“Dean?  What’s wrong?” Sam demanded immediately.  Dean brought his free hand up to his face, sliding it up and through his hair.

“It’s Cas.”  He said, the words scraping themselves out of his throat.  He could feel Sam holding his breath on the other end of the line, waiting for him to continue.  “He got in an accident, Sammy, and he’s in a coma in the ICU right now, and... and he’s Adam.”  The words didn’t make sense and Dean was agitated that he couldn’t get his mouth to say the right words.  “He’s Adam. I mean... His ribs, and his leg, and his head, and his fingers, and it’s all the same, Sammy.”

“Oh my god, Dean,” Sam said, his voice just a breath.  

“The only one here who knows about Adam is Cas, and he’s in a coma, and I don’t know how to deal with this, Sammy,” Dean whispered roughly.  There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Dean could vaguely hear Sam talking to someone, a woman by the sound of it.

“Spring break is next week.  A couple extra days won’t kill me, I’m going to catch a plane up there, Dean.”

“Sam, you don’t need to--”  Dean started to respond, but he was cut off.

“I’m coming up there, Dean.  Look, I know you have this thing about being the big brother and about taking care of me, but for once...I want you to just stop, okay?  Let me be there for you.  You’re my brother, Dean, and I want to help, in any way I can.  So, please, just don’t argue.”  Another refusal was on the tip of Dean’s tongue, but it slowly shriveled and died.  As did the rest of his words, but one.

“Okay.”  He heard Sam breathe a sigh of relief.  

“Alright.  Whose phone is this?  Can I call it tomorrow when I get to the hospital?”  Dean nodded at the question, realising a little too late that Sam couldn’t see him.

“Yeah.  It’s Gabriel’s.  Cas’ brother.”  

“Alright. I’ve got to go, then.  I’ll see you tomorrow, Dean.  Hang in there, okay?”  

“Okay.”  The line went dead, but Dean kept the phone at his ear for several seconds before finally, slowly lowering it to his lap.  He stared down at the floor between his knees, jaw clenching slowly.

“Still lost?”  A vaguely familiar voice asked as a woman sat on the floor beside Dean.  He turned to look and found the red-headed nurse who had helped him and Bobby find their way to Cas’ room.

“No, we found the room.  I just...”  Dean spread his hands helplessly.

“Is he your brother?  The patient you were looking for?”  She asked.

“No-- I mean, yeah,” Dean stuttered.  The nurse’s eyebrows shot up, but a tiny smile tugged at her lips.

“Ah, yes, I see.  Your ‘brother.’”  She made air quotes at the last word.  “Shh, don’t look so worried, I won’t tell a soul.  I don’t really like rules.  Honestly?  Historically, I’ve had this problem with authority.”  Dean found himself smiling with her a bit, and it was something of a relief.  “I’m Charlie.  You?”  She stuck her hand out, and Dean shook it.

“Dean.”

“Good to meet you, Dean.  Welcome to the hospital, where misery and hope mingle like lovers.”  She grinned and Dean again found himself somewhat smiling.  “So your ‘brother,’ what’s he here for, if I can ask?”  The smile slid from Dean’s face and he glanced away.

“He got in an accident.  He’s in a coma now,” Dean murmured.

“Oh, jeez,” Charlie said with a huff.  “Why are you out here instead of in there with him?”

“I needed to call my brother--my actual brother--and I needed to breathe.  I wasn’t expecting for him to, I mean--” Dean cut himself off and brought his hands to his face.

“Hey, it’s okay.  It will be okay, I mean.  I get how hard it must be.  It’s just like in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, when Hermione was petrified by the basilisk, and Harry and Ron didn’t know what to do with themselves at first.  Being petrified is basically like a coma, right?”  Dean glanced up at her again, finding her deep in thought over her own question.  Dean let out a weak laugh.  She shook herself out of it and got to her feet.

“C’mon, champ.  It’s about time you got back in there.  Your ‘brother’ needs you, and I gotta get back to work.”  She leaned down and snatched Gabriel’s phone out of Dean’s lap before grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet.  She handed back the phone and shooed him along.

“Go on.  I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again, Dean.”  She gave him a little shove and a wave and then was on her way.  Dean made his way back to Cas’ room, finding that things had barely changed.  Elizabeth was still at Cas’ side, Charles looming behind her, hands on her shoulders.  Gabriel was leaned up against the wall, his arms crossed, and Bobby was in the chair in the corner.  The silence was still as heavy as when Dean had left.  He silently handed Gabriel his phone back and moved around to the other side of Cas’ bed.  Conscious of the eyes that were on him, he gently took Cas’ hand in his, looking down at the unconscious man.

“What did you do to yourself, Cas?”  He whispered.  “What did you do to yourself?”

* * *

 

Only one family member was allowed to remain with Cas overnight, and it was silently and unanimously agreed that Elizabeth should be the one to stay.  Charles elected to go rent a hotel room for Elizabeth and himself, and Dean told Gabriel that he could stay at the apartment.  Dean was unable to catch his breath when they first arrived home.  All he could see were the shadows of Cas, taunting him with the knowledge that the bed would be cold and empty.

“There’s, uh, quiche in the fridge if you’re hungry,” Dean mumbled, motioning towards the kitchen vaguely.

 _“This really is delicious, Dean.  You should make this for us more often.”_  Dean flinched at the appearing echo of Cas’ voice.  It was hard for him to believe that it had only been that very morning that he’d made breakfast for them.  He nearly leapt out of his skin when Gabriel put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Cassie is going to be alright, Dean.  He’s a fighter.  He won’t let a coma keep him down.”  Dean glanced over his shoulder at Gabriel, who, by his expression, was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince Dean.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I know.”  His eyes swept across the living room, the shadow of their dance whirling past.  “I’m gonna go to bed, Gabriel.  I’ll see you in the morning, make yourself at home.”  Without waiting for acknowledgement, Dean trudged back to his and Cas’ bedroom.  He collapsed onto the bed, snagging Cas’ pillow and burying his face in its’ fabric.  It smelled of his absent lover, and his chest tightened slightly once more, so he hugged the pillow closer.  The bed was as empty as the shadows had promised, and seemed twice as cold.

 

 


	23. Groom Feathers, Stardust Sprinkled

**Three Days Later**

“I have to say, this is definitely not the way I’d have chosen to meet you, Sam,” Gabriel commented as he handed Sam his cup of coffee.

“Yeah, same,” Sam said with a sigh, cradling the warm styrofoam closely.  Worry was etched all across the planes of his face.  “This is all just a huge mess.  Cas doesn’t deserve this, and I don’t know how Dean would manage if... worst came to worst.  He has to be thinking about Adam since Cas’ injuries are so similar.”  He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, running his free hand through his hair absently.

“Who’s Adam?”  Gabriel asked.  Sam frowned and quickly related the story to him, and by the end of it Gabriel looked pale and stricken.

“I had no idea,” he mumbled.  Sam nodded and the two slowly made their way back upstairs to Cas’ new room, chatting quietly about their brothers as they went. When they arrived, they found Dean alone with Cas.

“Where’s mom?” Gabriel inquired.

“She said she was going to the hotel to sleep for awhile.”  Dean responded quietly as he rose.

“I’m going to go for a walk, I need to breathe,” he said as he gently made his way past his brother and Gabriel.  He wanted to stay with Cas, but seeing him so immobile and dead to the world was far more painful than he ever might have guessed.  As he paced the hallways, a few silent tears streaked their way down his cheeks.  He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the grey-haired, portly man with thick rim glasses barrelling down the hallway until they quite literally ran into each other.

“Hey, watch it buddy!  I’m finally free and not you or anybody else is gonna stop me!  Frank Deveraux is a free man!” Dean stopped and stared blankly at the strange man, blinking his eyes free of tears.

“Hey, what’re you crying for?”  Frank asked bluntly, moving in way too close for comfort.  “What, your boyfriend die or something?”  Dean flinched back and went pale, and Frank immediately felt a little guilty.  “M’sorry.  It’s just, you don’t look so good, kid.  You look like hell.”

“Yeah, well I feel like hell,” Dean replied with a humourless laugh.  Frank eyed him critically.

“I lost my wife and two kids a few years back.  Just do what I did back then to get through whatever it is that you’re going through now.”  Dean tilted his head curiously.  The guy had obviously escaped from the psych ward, but he couldn’t deny that he was curious.  Frank took his silence as his cue to continue.  “Decide to be fine till the end of the week.  Make yourself smile because you’re alive and that’s your job.  And do it again next week.”  Dean stood, staring unblinkingly as he processed the advice.  It sounded hard, but it did make sense.  What use was there in crying and being frustrated?  It wouldn’t make Cas wake up any sooner, and Cas needed him.  If he was awake, Dean knew Cas would be doing everything in his power to make him smile.

“That makes sense,” Dean said slowly, but he was quickly cut off by Frank.

“Aw, damn it.  Here comes the King of Hell himself.” Dean glanced over his shoulder to see a dark haired, shorter man marching towards them with a thunderous look to his face.  “I was almost outta here, too.”

“Mister Deveraux. Just what are you doing out of your quarters?”  The man asked in a thick, gravelly British accent.  

“Trying to escape, what else Crowley?  Would have too if it hadn’t been for this kid moping around.”  Frank motioned rather violently towards Dean, who backed to the wall and put his hands up.  Crowley sighed, obviously exasperated.  

“Come along, Mister Deveraux. And don’t let me catch you trying to get away again, or I’ll strap you to your bed,” Crowley growled.

“Right.  Back to Hell ward for me.  Remember what I said, kid!”  Frank called over his shoulder as he and Crowley marched away.  Dean ran a hand across his face, smoothing out the leftover moisture.  He took a deep breath and then forced himself to smile.  It was painful at first.

“What are you doing with your face, Dean?”  Charlie’s voice surprised him, and he quickly turned, wiping the half-smile, half-grimace off his face.  He scratched the back of his head and chuckled quietly.

“This crazy guy put this crazy idea in my head, and I thought I’d try it out.”  Charlie perked an eyebrow up, crossing her arms.

“And just what is this idea?”

“To smile.  To make myself be okay for Cas.”  Charlie’s expression quickly turned to one of approval.  

“That’s a perfect idea.  Except, maybe you should try smiling, not making that ridiculously terrifying face you were making before,” she quipped, drawing a little chortle out of Dean.  “See, that’s a little better!  I’ll get a real smile out of you yet!”  She stepped forward and poked him very decidedly in the side, and he grunted out a burst of laughter, his lips stretching into a genuine grin as he stepped away from her.

“You are like the annoying little sister that I never wanted, I swear,” he said, still laughing a little.  It felt good to laugh.  His chest was still a little tight, and he still hurt with the knowledge that he couldn’t help Cas, but it was good to smile.  Charlie stepped forward and looped her arm with Dean’s, tugging him along.

“C’mon.  It’s time for me to check on Cas anyway.”  When they arrived back at Cas’ room, they found that Sam and Gabriel had both drawn up chairs beside Cas’ bed and were talking quietly amongst themselves.  Their conversation when Charlie burst into the room with Dean in tow.  She shoved Dean at Gabriel and Sam and then went about checking up on Cas, talking as she did so.

“Boys, say hello to your new and improved brother.  He’s sworn to stop moping about and actually smile once in awhile, just like Mister Novak here would want!”  Sam cast a look at his brother, who shrugged his shoulders and offered a half-smile as his only response.  Charlie was finished with her duties quickly, and she threw Dean a quick goodbye before moving onto the rest of her rounds, promising to see him later.  He’d been glad to know that Charlie would be one of the people taking care of his Castiel.  He wasn’t sure why, but he just trusted the odd red-haired girl.  She had a comforting, lively air to her, and Dean was almost convinced that her presence could help to breathe life back into Cas.

* * *

 

The rest of the day slid by slowly.  Dean remained faithfully by Cas’ side, but he forced himself to interact with Gabriel and Sam.  He tried to steer the conversation in positive, happier directions, smiling when it seemed appropriate, even laughing once or twice.  The actions felt like motions, as if he was an actor, but at the same time they seemed to cleanse him.  When he was pretending that it was easy to smile and laugh, he could almost forget how much he wanted to crumple in on himself.  Sam noticed his efforts, though he didn’t comment on it.  He was afraid that if he mentioned his observations, he would break Dean out of the act on accident.  Sam still kept a close eye on him.  Despite his efforts, Sam was still worried about a possible lapse.  If Dean retreated into himself, as he had after Adam had died, Sam knew Dean wouldn’t forgive himself.  

Sometime in the evening, Gabriel stood and stretched.  “Hey, I know it’s kind of early and all, Dean-o, but I’m going to head back to the apartment, if it’s all the same to you.  I haven’t exactly been sleeping my best and I’m beat.”  He glanced down at his baby brother, and Dean saw the flicker of the pain that Gabriel was so good at hiding behind bad jokes and his ever-abundant confidence.  

“Yeah, yeah go get some sleep, you look half-dead, man,” Dean said, nodding.  Gabriel waved to Dean, inclined his head to Sam and headed out, leaving Sam, Dean, Cas and Cas’ crew of life support machines.  Dean had already become acclimated to the constant sound of the machinery that worked tirelessly to keep his star alive.  He hated them, but had decided to simply ignore them in hopes that someday they’d simply be a bad memory.  Dean sat in Gabriel’s vacated spot, tucking the chair in a bit closer to Cas’ bedside.

It was a comfort to have his brother nearby.  They were silent for the most part, just sitting there beside Cas, but Sam’s presence was enough to help ground Dean.  He’d done well with making himself smile all day, and he finally allowed the facade to fade a little.  He didn’t feel quite so wretched as he had earlier, before his odd encounter with Frank, but holding his mask aloft all day was tiring.  He let his face fall into his hands, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly.  

“You did good today, Dean.  Cas would be proud to know how hard you’re trying.  And who knows, maybe he does know.  No one really knows much about comas.”  Dean raised his head so he could speak.

“Garth told me that there is a good possibility that he can hear what’s going on, even if he only processes it subconsciously,” he responded a little absently, his eyes sliding to Cas’ pale face.  It still was unnatural to constantly see no expression on the beloved face, to not see his ethereal blue eyes.  The blue of his eyes and the light of his smile had both been such trustful constants that their absence was a glaring blight on the slow passing hours.  

“Talk to him, Dean.  If he can hear, you are probably the one he wants to hear the most,” Sam whispered to his brother.  It caused him an almost physical pain to see his brother in such a state.  Dean continued to look down at Cas, envisioning him opening his eyes, imagining a smile stretching his chapped lips as he sat up to stretch.  None of these things, predictably, occurred.  He took up Cas’ hand in his, comforted by the touch and always hopeful that perhaps Cas could feel his touch.  

It struck him as odd that he was the one who needed comfort.  It seemed almost selfish to him, for him to cry and become frustrated and have to fake a smile when it was Cas who was lying in a hospital bed, looking for all the world like he might be dead.   _“I guess the world’s just funny that way,”_ Dean thought to himself, giving Cas’ hand a light squeeze.

“I miss you,” Dean murmured at last.  “You’re here in front of me, but I miss you so much.  But I don’t want you to worry about me, okay?  Just focus on fighting this and coming back to me.  You fight, and I’ll be here with a smile, I promise.”  He stood as he was speaking, standing right at Cas’ side.  Sam watched silently.  He’d never seen such a softness in his brother before.  It was a different sort of vulnerability than when he showed how much he was hurting, something gentler.  Sam had, of course, heard Dean speak of Cas, heard the adoration in his voice no matter how much he thought he hid it, but to see it was something different altogether.  His brother’s eyes were riveted on Cas’ pale, motionless face, an intense protectiveness there in the mossy green pools.

Dean leaned over and pressed a kiss to Cas’ temple.  “And you won’t be alone.  I promise you won’t be alone, I won’t leave you.  I’ll be right here until the moment you wake up, because I want to be the first thing you see when you come back to us.  I love you.  I love my star, so much.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just remember that I love you all?


	24. The Penning of the Flickering Fates

**Mid-August**

“Hey there, Cas.  How are you this morning?”  Charlie asked conversationally as she came in to change Cas’ sheets.  Dean watched, mildly amused as she continued to talk to him, though she would receive no answer, same as every day.  Charlie had made it a habit of hers to strike up a conversation with Cas whenever she came in, divulging to Dean that she secretly believed that if she talked to him enough he’d just sit up and answer one day.  The smile that had slipped onto Dean’s face had been a genuine one.  Psych-ward Frank’s advice from months before had helped more than Dean had ever anticipated.  The smiles that he faked eventually became natural smiles that just came to him with more and more ease.  He kept a carefully kindled fire of hope within him.

“When are you going to stop with the silent treatment?  For the last time, I’m not after Dean!  He’s handsome and all,” Charlie glanced over her shoulder and winked at Dean, “But he is definitely not my type.  For starters, he’s a _guy_.  And besides, you two are simply too adorable together.  I’d be the Lavender of this, getting between Ron and Hermione, who are _perfect_ together, by the way.”  She kept chatting away, even after the sheets had been thoroughly changed.  Dean was always glad that she stayed, he was sure Cas appreciated the company.  Charlie was exactly the type of person Cas would be friends with, and exactly the type of person Dean would have hoped a sister might have been if he and Sam had ever had one.

“You’re pretty lucky, Cas.  We made ourselves a friend out of your nurse here.  And she’s a nerd like you too!”  Charlie aimed a weak punch at Dean’s shoulder, which only served to make Dean laugh.  “We’ll have to take her out to the diner when you wake up.  Get some of Ellen’s pie.”  Dean hummed a little in the back of his throat at the thought of the pie, his lips curling up into a longing smile.

Dean and Charlie continued chatting, speaking as if Cas was an active part of the conversation until Charlie finally had to return to her rounds, casually reminding Cas that he was her favourite patient.  “But don’t tell the others!”  Dean chuckled and took his normal seat beside Cas.  He gently took up Cas’ hand, leaning down and kissing the back of it softly, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly.

 _“Decide to be fine till the end of the week.  Make yourself smile because you’re alive and that’s your job.  And do it again next week.”_   The words had become something of a mantra to him.  He repeated them to himself every now and again, no matter how well things were going, just a reminder of his vital job.  He kept his promise to Cas stored close to his heart.  Dean hadn’t slept at the apartment in months.  He left for short stints of time to go shower, but during that time Gabriel or Balthazar would sit in with Cas until Dean returned. 

Balthazar stayed in Anchorage when he could, but he had been taking care of most of the nightclub business so that Gabriel could remain with Dean.  Elizabeth and Charles had gone back to Fairbanks so they could keep up with their house and so Charles could get back to his work.  They still, however, called almost every day to see how things were and to ask if there was any change in Cas.  Sam had returned to California at the end of Spring Break, and he too called often.  Michael would visit occasionally, when he could get away from his insane work schedule in New York.  Whenever he visited, it was only ever for a day or two at a time, but he would remain right by Cas’ side the entire time.  He would talk quietly with Dean or Gabriel.  Michael never smiled, never laughed, choosing to simply stay close to his brother, watching over him vigilantly.

Bobby came to visit every once in a while, and he managed to keep the shop open without Dean’s help, though he still paid Dean as though he did come to work each day.  Bobby was the one who made sure that the rent on the apartment was paid each month.

“I love my star so much,” Dean murmured, smiling and laying Cas’ hand down on the bed beside him, leaning back in the chair.  Over the course of the months, Cas had grown paler than usual, and his once lusciously black hair had grown dull and matte.  Dean reached up, running his fingers through Cas’ hair to straighten it a little.  No matter how much the coma twisted and changed him, Dean couldn’t see him as anything other than radiantly beautiful. 

He jumped a little when someone cleared their throat from behind him.  He turned to find Gabriel standing in the doorway, Cas’ copy of _Little Women_ held tightly in his hands.  He walked over, holding the well-loved novel out to Dean.

“Thank you, Gabriel,” Dean murmured, taking the book into his hands.  He looked down at the cover, the colours faded, and he smiled a tiny smile.  Gabriel nodded and took a seat in the chair in the corner silently.  Dean had become so accustomed to Gabriel’s quiet presence that he hardly consciously noticed him anymore, but he still subconsciously knew that he was there.  It was like being alone without being vindictively alone, and it was oddly comforting.  Dean opened the book, running his fingers across the soft, yellowed pages.

It was almost as though Cas was nestled in the pages of the book, waiting for Dean to find him and draw him back into reality.  The words blurred together on the page until they seemed to spell out “Castiel.”  He thumbed through the pages for a few moments before finally turning to the first chapter.  Dean cleared his throat quietly and started to read aloud.  Gabriel stayed in his corner and listened.  Dean’s voice was a little halting at first, but soon he eased into it.  The words were unfamiliar to Dean, as he hadn’t read the book before, only had seen the movie countless times with Cas. 

Gabriel didn’t know whether to smile or cry when Dean paused in his reading to discuss what was happening with Cas.  Gabriel had never fathomed just how deeply Dean cared for Cas, never realised how truly loved his baby brother was, but now he could see it.  It was in every word Dean spoke, in every glance he threw to Cas, in the way that Dean held the book with one hand and held Cas’ hand with the other.  Gabriel settled back in his chair, letting his eyes drift closed as he listened the familiar story, the steady sounds of Cas’ ventilator helping him to breathe creating a static background to Louisa May Alcott’s soft and comforting words

“Gabriel...”  Dean said suddenly, his voice soft and strained.  Gabriel’s eyes snapped open.  “Gabriel!”  He got to his feet and rushed over. 

“His hand.  He gripped my hand for a second and twitched.  Go get Garth, or Charlie.  Go get someone!”  Dean got to his feet, breathless, eyes wild with a sharp hope.  Cas was still again, but Dean knew he had not imagined it.  He knew that most patients started waking from a coma very slowly, with twitches and small movements.  Gabriel ran out and just a minute later was back with Garth.

"What is it, Dean?”

“His hand.  He twitched and he gripped my hand!  Does that mean..?”  Dean could barely get the question out.  His heart was pounding almost uncomfortably hard to the rhythm of his hope.  He was so excited and agitated that he missed the slight frown that Garth wore, but Gabriel saw it, and his heart clenched with fear.  Dean stood away while the doctor performed a few small tests, trying to gauge Cas’ response to stimuli.

There was a distinct and heavy silence, and Dean waited with bated breath.  Finally, Garth turned first to Gabriel, who knew immediately what the grim look meant.

“Dean, I’m sorry, but it appears that what you witnessed was just an involuntary reflex.  They’re fairly common in most coma patients.  I do not believe Castiel is waking up.  I’m sorry.”  Dean didn’t process the words at first, and it took several long seconds for the hopeful expression to fade from his face. 

Gabriel watched the colour drain from his face, watched his shoulders slump and his eyes dim.  He stepped forward and put an arm around Dean’s shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.  Dean nodded slowly, murmured a, “Thank you, doc,” and slipped away from Gabriel, returning to his chair-marked vigil beside Cas.  Garth slipped out of the room silently, and a few seconds later, Gabriel slipped out as well.  Dean needed to get out of the hospital room for awhile.  He’d barely left in months, he needed a short break, something simple that would allow him to breathe.

It took him awhile, but Gabriel was eventually able to track down Charlie, fortunately just before she left for the evening.

“Charlie!”  The redhead turned and smiled lightly.

“Hey, Gabe!  What’s up?”

“It’s Dean.  I think he needs a break from the hospital for awhile.  I’ll stay with Cassie, but do you think you could take him out?  Give him a breather?”  Charlie nodded immediately, brightening slightly at the suggestion.

"Yeah, of course!  He’s up with Cas, I’m guessing?”  Gabriel nodded and Charlie immediately turned back from where she’d come and set off for Cas’ room.  When she arrived, she stopped haltingly in the doorway.  Dean was slumped over in his chair, bent over Cas, his shoulders shaking slightly.  It was a bit of a shock.  He’d been so strong for months, but he looked so broken just then.  Her throat dried up and her smile died.  She came forward slowly, coming up behind Dean and laying a hand on his back.

“Dean?”  She asked softly.  He looked up at her.  His face was damp with tears, his mossy green eyes glazed with the pain that he had so carefully kept in check.

"I thought he was coming back.  He moved, and I thought he was waking up.”  Charlie pursed her lips tightly and frowned.  Had no one warned him that Cas might occasionally twitch or move involuntarily?  Most family members of coma patients were warned straight away.  She slid her arms around his shoulders, pulling him back into a tight embrace.  Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed Gabriel slip into the room silently.

“C’mon, Dean,” Charlie said quietly but firmly, pulling him out of the chair.  “We’re going to go out for a bit, you need to get away, just for an evening.”  Dean started to protest, but she quieted him with a stern look and a little shake of her head.

“Gabriel will be here for him until you get back.”  Dean nodded, wiping his face and going with her without complaint.

* * *

Charlie ended up convincing Dean to take her to Ellen’s diner, and during the drive she kept cracking jokes, most of which were nerdy ones that Dean didn’t understand, but she did ease a smile or two out of him.

“It’ll be great when Cas can come along,” Dean commented quietly as he slid into the booth.  Ellen came over and took his and Charlie’s orders.  The two of them sat in companionable silence for a couple minutes.  Dean was steeped in the memories of his and Cas’ many visits to the diner.  He was suddenly glad that things were busy so that Ellen wouldn’t have time to question where Cas was.  The idea of him answering a question about his star while he felt so fragile was terrifying. 

“So,” Charlie said suddenly, leaning forward conspiratorially, startling Dean out of his thoughts.  “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Yours’ and Cas’ great love story.  I want to hear it all.”  Charlie’s eyes were lit up with excitement and genuine curiosity.  Dean sat back to gather his thoughts and his memories, piecing the story together in his mind before vocalising it.  He started with how Cas found him, dirty and homeless and on the brink of giving up on everything, how he got him cleaned, how he gave him food, how he gave him a warm and dry place to sleep, how he offered his own home to Dean.  He told absolutely everything.  About Cas’ strength in keeping him from drowning on the anniversary of Adam’s death, of Cas taking care of him in every way imaginable.  He laughed and smiled with her over the memory of Thanksgiving and of coming home to find Cas dancing to the Spice Girls.  Dean gave himself up to the memories entirely, letting them flow freely from him.      

He told her about the kiss and about both of them being confused and hurt because of a small misunderstanding on both of their parts.  Dean recalled all of Gabriel and Balthazar’s tricks, chuckling at the memories.  Charlie listened with rapt attention, laughing and smiling but not interrupting.  Dean’s eyes grew distant when he spoke of Christmas night, idly playing with the little bronze amulet that hung around his neck, fingers tracing the contours of it.

“I never knew what it was like to love someone like I love Cas.  I love my brother, I do, but this is different.  It was under the stars that Cas loves so much, out in the freezing cold, that I learned what it’s really like to love someone,” Dean smiled softly.  “He gave me a home.  I’ll never know why he picked me up off the streets, but for as long as I live, I will never regret agreeing to go with him.”  He moved on to tell her about the surprise he arranged for Cas on Valentine’s day, at which point Charlie informed Dean that he was “a big softie and a true sweetheart.”  He waved it away with a bashful grin.

Dean haltingly finished his story by recounting the story of his and Cas’ last dance and breakfast the next morning.  They had long since finished eating when at last he stopped talking, and Dean just stared out the diner window.  Charlie was speechless for awhile.  She found herself angry at the injustice of it.

"This is, like, the most unfair thing.  You two have gone through your own personal Hells and back and finally found each other, and now something as stupid and trivial as a _car accident_ is keeping you apart?  What is that?”  Dean lowered his eyes to the tabletop, shrugging his shoulders lightly.

“Cas read a book once, and he was really upset about something that happened to a character at the end. I tried to comfort him, and I told him that tragedy like that just doesn’t happen in real life, because at the time…I thought it didn’t.  I guess the universe felt the need to correct me,” Dean said, barking out a humourless laugh. 

* * *

 

“Hello, love.”  Gabriel turned and smiled with exhaustion at the sight of Balthazar, who stood with his arms open.  Gabriel went to him instantly, and Balthazar folded him into a tight embrace.  “I just got in.  How are you doing?”  Gabriel heaved a deep sigh, pulling away slightly and shaking his head a little and recounting what had happened earlier, explaining that Dean was out with Charlie in hopes that she could raise his spirits a little.

Balthazar frowned and examined Gabriel’s expression thoroughly.  His mask was up, but Balthazar could see through it with ease.  “How are _you_ doing?”  He asked softly.  Gabriel opened his mouth, preparing a reassurance, preparing to claim that he was perfectly fine, but it died on his tongue.  His shoulders fell a little and he allowed his mask to slip.  He knew he wasn’t fooling Balthazar anyway. 

“I’m so tired.  I’m determined to be here for Dean while he’s there for Cassie, but sometimes it just gets to me.  My little brother has been in a coma for over three months now.  And it pisses me off, because I’m supposed to protect him, but I _can’t_ this time.”  Gabriel stepped away and raked a hand through his hair, walking over to the window, looking out into the evening.  “I can’t even protect my own brother, because what would I be protecting him from?  Himself?  How do I fight a coma?  How do I scare off a coma?  All I can do is sit in here with Dean, day in and day out, make sure he can keep it together and _hope_ that maybe my little brother will wake up.”  Gabriel gripped the windowsill tightly, his knuckles turning white, his shoulders tense. 

Balthazar came up behind him, reaching up to knead both of Gabriel’s shoulders gently.  He didn’t have any words that could comfort his lover, but he wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone.  The room was silent except for the sounds of Cas’ machines, whirring and beeping in the background like a morbid soundtrack.

Gabriel allowed himself to keep his mask off until Charlie brought Dean back, and Dean never noticed the lapse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you guys? Need some tissues? Maybe some quiche to gorge yourself on while you sob? Any way I can help? I love you all..


	25. Lucid Blue of the Impending Horizon

**Early October**

_At first, all he could see was black.  Pure, impenetrable black.  Before he could start to panic, tears in the darkness started to appear, slits of light that he quickly determined were stars.  They appeared suddenly, dotting across the horizon, bringing a little light to the ocean of black.  Dean glanced around in wonderment, catching a sudden motion out of the corner of his eye.  He turned to look, and all the breath left his body at the sight of Cas.  He was standing in the dark, surrounded by the stars, looking at Dean with an expression that he couldn’t identify.  His heart skipped a beat, perhaps two, and he threw an arm out towards him._

_“Cas!”  His voice sounded thin, insignificant and far too quiet, but he could see the recognition in Cas’ eyes, could see that he had heard.  Dean tried to go forward, tried to run to his blue-eyed angel, but his feet refused to move.  He looked down at them, and Cas was momentarily forgotten.  Dean was standing on top of the earth, his feet firmly planted so that he could not move._

_“Cas,” he said again, motioning towards Cas, who had not moved, but was now smiling at Dean from across the stars.  He didn’t say anything, but he did turn, the move graceful, as if he were dancing.  He began to move through the field of stars, the only word appropriate for the scene being that Cas was frolicking, frolicking among the stars as one might amongst wildflowers.  Dean’s mind refused to supply him with any words, and all he could do was watch from his lonely spot at the top of the world.  He turned in place so he could follow Cas’ sporadic movements.  As he turned, more than stars came into his view.  In the distance, there were galaxies composed of colours and shapes that left him breathless and thoughtless.  In his awe, he forgot to continue watching Cas, but his attention was quickly returned to Cas at the sound of his voice._

_“Dean.”  Dean turned swiftly to look, and found Cas standing before the sun itself.  It lit his features, setting his skin ablaze with a radiant white, putting an almost blue hue to his deep black hair.  Cas’ hand was outstretched towards Dean, the skin of his hand perfectly pale and pure.  No matter how much Dean reached, however, he could not move towards Cas, and he let out a small grunt of frustration._

_“Dean?”  Cas asked, his voice confused.  All of the space around them gave his voice an odd, resonating quality, as though his baritone was bouncing off the stars themselves.  He canted his head to the side, and let his arm fall.  A smile that could only be described as peaceful lit his face, and Dean was left breathless again, his own arm dropping._

_“It’s okay,” Cas whispered.  No matter how quietly he was speaking, it seemed to Dean as though he were murmuring right into his ear.  “It’s okay.”_

_“What’s okay?  No, nothing is okay, Cas.  Come here, please!”  Dean called out, his voice strained, and again he sounded too small and so insignificant._

_“It’s okay,” Cas repeated softly.  His eyes softened, as did his smile.  Then, without warning, Cas turned and strode straight towards the sun._

_“Cas!”  Dean screamed, attempting to throw himself forward, but the more he attempted to move, the more firmly his feet seemed planted in the top of the world.  “Cas stop!”  His voice broke and petered off pathetically, and he was helpless to watch Cas walk into the burning arms of the sun, disappearing into nothing._

“Cas!”  Dean screamed, waking himself with the sound of his own voice.  His eyes flew open and all he found was Cas’ dark hospital room.  He sat up in his chair, panting and disconcerted.  He rubbed his face with both of his hands, pushing his fingers up into his hair, squeezing his eyes shut tightly for a few short seconds.  His heart was beating rapidly to a wild rhythm that he couldn’t tame.  Every time he blinked, all he could see was the image of Cas standing before the sun, lit up with an unnatural radiance.  His chest ached fiercely.  Disregarding the way the light had touched his skin, he looked just as Dean remembered from so many months before.  The smile, the ethereal blue eyes...

Dean groaned in pain, wrapping his arms around his middle and closing his eyes tight again.  He was hit by a wave of longing to hold Cas again, to hear his voice, to see his smile.  He missed every single thing about him, from the way his mouth hung open a little when he was focused on a book, to the little dance his fingers did on the table when he was studying.  From the way he cried every time they watched _Little Women,_ to the little spark that lit in his eyes when he talked about the stars.  Everything about him, the lack of all the little details that made Castiel _Cas_ that Dean had grown so accustomed to without even realising it, he missed everything.  There weren’t any tears, he didn’t feel like he could cry anymore. 

“Pull yourself together.  Pull yourself together, Dean,” he mumbled to himself, forcing himself to straighten up.  Charles and Elizabeth would be arriving later in the day, and he wanted to have a level head for them.  He looked at Cas’ prone form and forced breaths in and out of his lungs slowly.  It took him awhile, but he was eventually able to calm himself down enough to stand and stretch, banishing thoughts of the dream from his mind for the time being.

Gabriel arrived not too long after, and they sat and talked for awhile.  Dean almost decided to tell him about his dream, but eventually decided against it. 

They were unsurprised when the decision was made to take Cas off the ventilator and allow him to breathe on his own.  Dean found himself glad at this, glad at the possibility that Cas would stop being dependent on at least one machine, that he would be able to breathe on his own. 

While Garth, Charlie and another doctor and nurse that Dean didn’t know went in to take take Cas off the ventilator, Dean and Gabriel were asked to step out, as they always were when they had to do something with Cas.  Dean leaned back against the wall, the smallest of smiles sitting on his lips.  Gabriel noticed and leaned over, bumping his shoulder against Dean’s.

“What are you smiling about, Dean-o?”

“Cas will be breathing on his own.  That’s sort of a step, isn’t it?” Gabriel found himself smiling with Dean, glad to see the distinct shimmer of hope in Dean’s eyes.  They both agreed to go get coffee, which had easily become their lifeblood while Cas had been in the hospital.  It wasn’t very good quality, often far too bitter with a burnt edge to it, but it was caffeine and after awhile it truly wasn’t so bad. 

They stayed in the hospital cafeteria for awhile, sitting in a comfortable, companionable silence.  Dean’s mind was wandering, flicking from thought to thought without any sort of consistency.  They did eventually make their way back to Cas’ room, and when they arrived, they found Garth waiting for them.  Both Gabriel and Dean stopped a few feet away, frozen by the expression on the lanky doctor’s face.  Dean remained where he had stopped, but Gabriel forced himself to surge forward.

“What is it?  What’s wrong?”  He demanded.

“There is no easy way to tell you what I have to say, Gabriel, so I am just going to get out with it.”  Garth’s gaze cut across to Dean, and his eyes flickered with grief before he looked back to Gabriel, who was very determined in keeping his mask up. 

“When we took Castiel off his ventilator, he did not begin breathing on his own.  We had to put him immediately back on the ventilator.  After that we performed several tests to check his responses, but... He had no responses.”  Garth clasped his hands in front of him, clearing his throat.  “Castiel has been taken to receive an electroencephalogram and a cerebral blood flow study.  We do not want to make a false pronouncement, so we are working to eliminate any doubt first, but all indications point to Castiel having experienced what is known as brain death.”  Gabriel’s eyes were burning and without remembering giving himself permission to cry, he felt tears sliding down his cheeks, his head jerking side to side sporadically as he silently mouthed, “No.”

Dean stumbled forward, “What--What does that mean?”  His mind refused to keep up properly with what Garth had said.

“It means he’s gone, Dean.  It means that he won’t wake up.  If we confirm it, it means that he is just a body without a mind.”  Dean’s pulse was too loud in his ears.

“Gone?  How can he be gone, he can’t be gone.  He can’t be.”  Dean’s voice was almost nonexistent.  Garth answered him, but he couldn’t hear anymore.  He leaned back against the wall and slid down, hitting the floor hard.  No tears, no words, he just sat in silence, staring blankly ahead.  Time flowed by him and nobody had the heart to disturb him for awhile.

Gabriel stood by, but he finally got tired of watching.  He disappeared for awhile, though Dean hardly noticed, and when he returned, he grabbed Dean’s arm and started hauling him to his feet.

“C’mon, Dean-o.  Get up, we’re leaving.  Mom and Dad will be here in an hour or so.  They’re going to come by the hospital to talk to Garth, and then they’re going to meet us at the apartment.”  Dean didn’t have the strength to protest, so he let Gabriel pull him along.  His mind flashed momentarily to another time when he felt on the verge of giving up on the world while being pulled along by a Novak.  He shook his head slightly to clear it of the thought.

Gabriel drove on the way to the apartment, and it gave Dean time to think, no matter how many times he tried to banish thoughts.  The injustice of what had happened to Cas was what he dwelled on the most.  It got under his skin.  How could someone so _good_ come to such _bad?_ The dull emptiness that had pervaded him started to melt away into something darker, and by the time they actually reached the apartment complex, his hands were shaking with anger.  He tried to keep it to himself, but with every step, he was struck more and more by how completely unjust it all was.  They reached the door, and as they stepped into the familiar apartment, Dean’s control slipped.

“It isn’t fair!”  Dean screamed suddenly, his hands going to his face, running roughly up into his hair.  Gabriel stepped back, his throat tight at the anger and pain evident in Dean’s voice.  Dean’s eyes were wild, his skin flushed with his sudden rage.

“Why does it have to be him?  He deserves to live!  Why the _hell_ does it have to be him?”  He bellowed, his voice ripping its way out of his throat mercilessly.  He turned abruptly and slammed the front door of the apartment behind him, the force of it shaking the walls, the sound of it grating at Gabriel’s ears.

“Damn it!”  He yelled, turning and stomping into the apartment, stopping partway to the hallway.  His jaw was working dangerously, his teeth grinding together.  “Damn it, I don’t get it.  I don’t get it!”  He rounded on Gabriel, his gaze blazing into the poor man, who had absolutely nothing to say that could put him to ease, and so he just stood there.  He just watched, his heart aching, trying desperately to keep his mask up.  He wanted to join Dean’s rage, he wanted to throw himself on the couch and sob like a child, he wanted to sit and not move for a thousand years.

Gabriel gasped in surprise when Dean suddenly swivelled around and slammed his fist into the wall beside him.  The wall partly gave way, and a hiss escaped through Dean’s clenched teeth.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered darkly, examining his bruised and bloodied hand.  Much of his rage had gone out of him when he hit the wall, but there was still a small flame in the centre of him.  Gabriel looked on at the mangled hand with a touch of horror.  Dean turned slightly, his breaths coming in short, rough pants, eyes roving the living room idly as he cradled the broken hand to his chest.  His gaze fell on the back of the couch, where Cas’ worn, tan trench coat rested.  He stared at it for several long seconds before stepping forward and picking up the old coat with his good hand.  He was shaking slightly as he pulled the coat closer to him.  He buried his face in coat, shoulders hunching forward.  Despite how many months had passed, it still smelled and felt like Cas. 

Dean’s eyes burned hot with tears that he didn’t want to shed.  He didn’t want to cry because if he cried, then it would make it all real.  If he kept the tears at bay, then there was a small possibility that it was all just a nightmare and he would wake and find himself next to Cas.

He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of Cas.  The coat was soft from so many washes and wears, sliding against his skin like a distant memory.  His hand continued to throb steadily, blood dripping down his arm from the torn knuckles.

“Michael and I gave him so much crap when he got that coat, y’know.  I’m glad he kept it now, though.  It’s become so much a part of him, it’s a little hard to imagine him not having it.”  Gabriel’s voice was soft enough that it didn’t startle Dean, who merely turned towards Gabriel, lowering the coat from his face. 

“Why?”  Dean’s question quivered in the air, hanging between them.  They both knew that he wasn’t talking about the coat anymore.

“I don’t know, Dean-o,” Gabriel finally responded with a sigh.  “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /gives everyone quiche/ i think you'll need it. /gives out ice cream to a specific reader as well/ you know who you are. I am so sorrynotsorry about this. Feel free to rant at me in comment form, that'd be greeeeat ;D


	26. Your Shine Is Moulting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to apologise to some people. When this fic was started, it did not start as being a fic that constituted a 'Major Character Death' Archive Warning. After it developed into going down that path, I did not think to change the tag and I really, really am sorry about that. That is completely my bad, and it has been updated, and please know that I never planned to trigger anyone with this. 
> 
> On another note, I want to thank everyone for all the comments, they give me life, I swear it <3

**Two Days Later**

Castiel had been confirmed as brain dead before Charles and Elizabeth had even arrived at the hospital.  They talked to Garth and were given the option to switch off his life support, and they opted to take time to discuss it due to an immediate inability to come to an agreement.

Dean went back to the hospital soon after they arrived at the apartment.  All he said was that he wanted to be with Cas.  Despite what he had been told, he was still determined to keep his promise to Cas and be fully there for him.  The argument about whether or not to let Cas go was brought up several times, but wasn’t fully discussed until Michael arrived two days after the announcement.  All of the Novaks gathered at Charles’ and Elizabeth’s hotel room.  The argument had finally collapsed into an actual fight that clouded and polluted the air of the room with anger and awkwardness.

“This is our son, we cannot just let him die!”  Elizabeth whispered heatedly.

“He isn’t even technically alive anymore, Beth.  Garth said there was no brain activity whatsoever, no reflex responses, nothing.  It is selfish of us to hang onto him like this.  This isn’t living, we aren’t doing him any favours by allowing those machines to force food and air into him.”  Charles sounded exhausted.  Gabriel stood on the far side of the room, his lips pressed together into a tight line.  It was downright unnatural to see his parents fight, and it was sickening to listen to them fight over Cas’ life like it didn’t belong to him anymore.

“I don’t care what that doctor says, that is my son! That is my Castiel!”  Her voice rose a little bit as she spoke, her cheeks flushed.

“Mom...”  Michael murmured, stepping forward at last.  Gabriel kept his distance still, suddenly wishing Balthazar wasn’t quite so far away.  “Dad’s right.”  The words made Gabriel clench his jaw with frustration.  “Castiel isn’t living anymore.  It’s like the doctor said, he’s just a body without a mind.  We don’t want to let him go anymore than you do.”  Elizabeth flinched back a little, but she was far from giving in.  The argument continued, getting more and more heated by the minute.  Gabriel stood by silently for awhile, but finally, he had decided he had heard enough.

“Stop.  Enough!”  He yelled, the sudden intrusion of his voice enough to stop everyone and bring silence to the room at last.  He glared around at his family, his fists clenched.

“You are all acting like we have to decide whether or not to put down a poor stray dog, not a person, not Cassie!”  He didn’t raise his voice again, but his words were spoken so firmly that no one interrupted him.  “This is Castiel we’re talking about.  The little boy who used to stare at the stars until he would pass out, the kid who studied so hard he put all his classmates to shame, the one who smiled and pretended to be alright if someone needed him, even if he wasn’t okay.”  No one was looking at him anymore, not even his mother, whom he had never seen look ashamed before.

“How much time have any of you spent with him in the past few months?  Do you know all of his nurses’ names?  Have you sat for hours and read his favourite book to him?  Have any of you fallen asleep whispering to him on the off chance that he can hear you?  No.  You know who has?  The one person who is absent from this discussion.  Why is he absent?  Because he’s at the hospital with Cassie.”  Gabriel reached a hand up to massage his right temple.  “I don’t think Dean has slept anywhere but that damn hospital room for months.  Don’t you think that maybe this question should be left to the person who has been by Cassie’s side this whole time since it is obvious that an agreement cannot be reached here?”  Michael sunk back out of the way, and Elizabeth and Charles exchanged looks.

“You’re right, Gabriel.  Of course you’re right,” Charles said, speaking what was already on everyone else’s mind.  

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth whispered.  Charles immediately slipped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close.  “I kept imagining him waking up, and to know that my son is not my son anymore...”  She glanced up at Michael and Gabriel, her eyes filling with tears.  Both boys immediately moved in to comfort her, perturbed by the image of their solid, strong mother crying.  She found herself surrounded by the three Novak men, who all clung to each other, silent in their mutual grief at the loss of one of their own, of their brother and son.  The only sound to be heard was the collective tinkling of the shattered bits of their heart tumbling around their heavy, hollow chests.

***

Charlie came in and sat with Dean for awhile.  She was silent, for once not having anything to say, no jokes to tell, no nerdy references to make.  Dean appreciated her company and he appreciated her silence.  He couldn’t imagine himself mustering up any words.  Charlie pulled her chair right up next to Dean’s, and though he didn’t remember doing it, he suddenly found himself leaning in, his head on Charlie’s shoulder.  She slid her arm around his waist and allowed him to lean on her.

He stared at Cas, a new memory flashing past his eyes every time he blinked.  Cas was standing before him with his hand held out, his trenchcoat being drenched by the rain.  Dean was laughing at Cas’ ridiculous astronomy joke.  Cas was holding him and singing his song gently.  Dean was crying for the first time while watching Little Women with Cas.  Cas was bouncing and dancing across the living room to the Spice Girls.  They were realising it had all been a misunderstanding.  They were watching the stars and the Northern Lights together.  They were dancing in their own other-space.  Dean let the memories wash over him until he forgot reality, until he forgot himself.  It was just him and Cas, over and over, just Dean and his star, endlessly.

Charlie eventually left to go tend to her other patients, having stayed entirely too long already.  She got to the door and then stopped, going back to Dean and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave them a squeeze in an semi-awkward hug.  He looked up a little too late to see her, but the small gesture had been enough to draw him out of his wordless, thoughtless reverie of memories.

Charles slipped into the room soundlessly, standing back for a moment and looking at Dean, who was bent over the bed slightly, firmly gripping Cas’ hand.  Dean jumped a little in surprise when Charles’ hand came down gently upon his shoulder.  He turned to look and stood when he saw who it was.

“Charles,” he said simply.

“Hello, Dean,” the older Novak said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.  Charles moved past the chair to Cas, leaning down over him.  He pushed Cas’ limp, dry, brittle hair off his forehead, just gazing down at his son with a grieving tenderness.  Dean stood by and watched, idly wondering what he looked like when he was leaned over Cas, drinking in the lines of his face.

“I’m here to thank you and to ask too much of you,” Charles said softly as he straightened up.  “Thank you for being here for my son, for staying by his side.  I never imagined how deeply Castiel would be loved someday.”  Charles rested a hand on Dean’s shoulder as he spoke.  “Thank you for making him happy when he could still smile and thank you for making yourself happy when he couldn’t.  We all consider you family, Dean.  Gabriel has told us that you and your brother have no family left, and I want you to know that you shall always have a family so long as you have us, you and your brother.  Elizabeth and I...”  Charles trailed off and Dean recognised the face of a man desperately trying to keep his composition.  “Elizabeth and I had hoped someday to welcome you into the family as our son-in-law.”  Dean’s resolve almost crumbled at the words, his throat becoming thick with emotion and his eyes burning hot with tears that he simply refused to let fall.  

“Now, I must ask too much of you.  It has been left to us, as a family, to decide whether or not to take Cas off his life support machines.  There has been... disagreement.  Gabriel suggested that we leave the decision up to the one person who has been with Cas through all these months.”  Dean stared at him blankly for a moment, attempting to fully comprehend what was being asked of him.  He swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat and nodded once, not trusting his voice.  Charles’ lips twitched in what might have been an attempt at a smile and then drew Dean into a tight embrace that Dean immediately returned.

“Thank you.  Thank you,” Charles mumbled, and Dean hugged him just a little tighter, as though he could hold Charles together.  They finally parted and Charles cast another look down at his son.

“I should get back to Elizabeth and the boys.  I assume you will be staying here?”

“Until he’s gone, I’ll be here,” Dean murmured.  “I promised him.”

* * *

 

When Michael arrived at Cas’ room later in the day, he found Dean slumped over the edge of the bed asleep, his bandaged hand curled into his uninjured hand, face smooth and at peace.  He moved silently through the room, coming around to the opposite side of Cas’ bed.  He gently moved a chair up beside the bed and sat, resting his elbows on the edge of the bed.

“Hello, Castiel,” he whispered so as not to wake Dean.  “I’m sorry I haven’t been here with you much through these past months, little brother.  Things at the firm have been absolutely insane.”  He quietly told Cas about the case he had been dealing with most recently, venting about various frustrations and obstacles along the way, and quietly rejoicing about his victory in the end.  He relayed senseless information about the people he worked with, about the mountains of paperwork he seemed to climb every day.  

“I guess I’ve been so busy with being the big, hotshot lawyer I always wanted to be that I forgot about being a brother.  I’m so sorry for that.  I’m sorry for never having been a proper brother to you.”  Michael’s voice quavered slightly.

“You should know that I am and always was and always will be proud of you.  I know you would have gone on to do great things, and who knows?  Perhaps you still shall, wherever you are going.  I thought, when I first heard... heard about you, all I could think was that I wasn’t going to have a baby brother anymore, I wasn’t going to be your big brother anymore.”  He reached up and smoothed a wrinkle in Cas’ hospital robe, folding his lips together tightly to hold his tears at bay.  

“But I realised that isn’t true.  I will always be your brother.  You will always be my baby brother.  And I miss you, and you have no idea how desperately I wish I could fix this.”  He bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly feeling like a small child.  He didn’t know how to lose someone.  He didn’t know how to handle losing his little brother.  He didn’t know how to be the brother of one.

“If I only could make a deal with God and get him to swap our places, I would in a heartbeat, Castiel.   I would do it without a single thought, I swear it.  I feel like such a useless brother.  Brothers are supposed to protect each other, but I can’t protect you, and I’m so sorry.”  He took up Cas’ thin, pale hand in his own, pressing his forehead to the back of it.  

He stayed for awhile, listening to the sound of Cas’ machines breathing and living for him, pretending that he was simply watching over his little brother again, as he used to when Cas was just a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic is finished by this point, now I'm just gradually posting the chapters. I am looking for potential new ideas for fics while I work on cultivating an original content story. I'd like suggestions~ If you'd like to leave a suggestion and look out for any updates on what I might be working on next, feel free to visit my tumblr and drop an ask or just poke around @ luciespie.tumblr.com 
> 
> I love you all infinitely!! <3


	27. No Light, No Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to leave a short but sincere apology right here for any distress that I put on anyone with my lack of tagging. The situation has been rectified and I can only hope that I will be forgiven for this. This is my very first fic, I was thoughtless and careless and I sincerely hope I didn't cause anyone too much grief, and I hope that all of you know how much I appreciate you, because I do. You're all lovely and I never expected my little fic to get this much attention. So thank you and I am sorry.

**Next Day**

Dean woke alone with Cas, and there were a few blissful, sleepy moments where all of the events of the previous day were forgotten.  Somehow, he had managed to sleep through the night without a single dream.  He straightened up, grunting when his spine straightened reluctantly, his vertebrae sliding into place with tiny pops.  He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, blinking rapidly and looking around while rolling his shoulders and reaching up to massage his neck.  At last, his mind cleared and everything flooded back in.  His posture slumped once again, and he closed his eyes, hoping everything would just dissolve away, but when he opened his lids, everything was still the same.  The sounds of Cas’ life support machines still droned on in the background, he was still staring at Cas’ unmoving form, he was still swimming in the scent of antiseptic. 

He sat back in his chair and stared out the window.  The day was unusually clear.  Clouds drifted by in the dull, autumn Alaska sky, and his eyes drifted along with them unconsciously.  Dean simply couldn’t find the energy to move.  He felt like he had finally been drained dry, and he almost found himself wishing he was back on the pavement, dirty and cold and wet.  Perhaps if he had never met Cas, his star would still be alive.  He would still be alive, and he would still be happy, and his family wouldn’t be losing him.  He tried to imagine what it might have been like had he not met Cas that day, what might have happened

Despite these thoughts, he still couldn’t imagine a world in which he could regret meeting and falling in love with Castiel.

He didn’t stir again until Charlie came in with a styrofoam cup of coffee for him.  She stood behind him with a hand on his shoulder while he sipped it.  Leaning down, she uncharacteristically pressed a kiss to his forehead before silently leaving the room. 

“Look at you, Cas.  You turned her into a big softie, you’re a miracle worker,” Dean said, trying to force a laugh.  It sounded strained and unnatural and painful, so he stopped.  He wanted desperately to feel numb and empty, but there was a steady throb of pain going through every part of his being.  He sipped at the coffee and then set it aside.

“They say that you can’t hear me anymore, that you’re already dead, but I refuse to believe that people as beautiful as you simply cease to exist, so I’m hoping that you’re listening to me, wherever you are.”  Dean tried to keep his voice conversational.  He had done so much crying already that he felt he might break if he shed any more tears, might simply disappear.  Dean pulled the chair right up to the bed, leaning forward on the edge.  He reached a hand up, running his hands through Cas’ limp, dull hair, trailing his trembling fingers down his cheek and along the edge of his jaw.  He let his hand drop, let it rest where it had fallen on Cas’ thin chest.

“Please wake up,” Dean pled quietly and senselessly, hanging his head, every ounce of his strength seeming to give out at once.  “I don’t want to have to let you go, but it would be selfish of me to make you stay.  So, you gotta wake up so I don’t have to let you go,” he murmured, unsure if Cas could even hear him.  Garth said that Cas wouldn’t hear anything ever again.  He gave Cas’ hand a tight squeeze, part of him almost expecting to have Cas return the pressure, but there was nothing.  No response, no sudden awakening, no miracle.  Despite having known there would be nothing, his chest still felt painfully tight with disappointment.

“C’mon, Cas, you can’t do this.  They’ve left it up to me, and I don’t want to have to make that choice.  I promised you I’d make sure you got to see the stars, and you have to catch up on schoolwork, and we still have things to do,” he rambled on, his voice cracking and breaking.  “So you have to wake up, okay?”  Dean finally raised his head to look at Cas, who hadn’t moved in the slightest, who looked as dead as he supposedly was. 

“Except you can’t be dead,” he mumbled chokingly.  “Because that would mean you’re leaving me and you would never do that, right?  You would never leave me alone, would you?  My star would never just stop shining and leave me to trip around in the dark, right, Cas?”  He didn’t know that Charlie was standing in the doorway listening to his pleas.  Tears slid silently down her face, every ounce of her mirth gone.  She didn’t say a word, didn’t make her presence known, she just watched, her heart breaking in ways that she would never understand.  She knew the decision that Dean would come to, but she could only imagine how much it would hurt to make it.  She had tried and failed many times to understand what it was Dean and the Novaks were going through and had gone through, but she couldn’t do it.

She drew back out of the room, leaving Dean alone once more.  He knew his decision.  Cas wasn’t really alive, it would be selfish of him to try to keep him alive when it really wasn’t living.  He hauled himself to his feet and stepped out into the hall, making his way to the lobby a little way away from Cas’ room.  Pulling out Gabriel’s phone, which had been left with him in case he needed to get in contact with one of the Novaks, Dean dialed Charles’ number.

* * *

 

The Novaks gathered at the hospital, each one silent and grave and heavy-hearted.  Elizabeth and Charles sought out Garth and spent a couple hours going over procedure and signing the paperwork necessary, as they were his medical guardians.  Gabriel, Michael, Balthazar, who had arrived just that morning, and Dean all stood around Cas’ room.  Gabriel never left Balthazar’s side, keeping their fingers twined.  The waiting was tedious, and Dean was afraid of his thoughts, so he spoke up unexpectedly.

“Tell me a story about Cas when he was a kid.”  The request threw everyone off for a few moments, but they all looked at each other, searching through their memories.

“He ran away once, when he was six,” Michael interjected.  “He got in trouble for staying up too late one night, so he decided to pack his things in his little stars and moon backpack and go tramping around on an adventure around the house.”  He found himself smiling faintly at the memory, and Dean tried to imagine a six year old Cas running around, trying to be an independent “run away.” 

“The first time I met Castiel, he had no idea who I was.  Gabriel had gone off to get something out of the kitchen, and I was just wandering the house, you know what a big place it is, and Castiel found me.  Scared the wits out of him, I’m afraid.  He was trying so hard to be brave, telling me to explain myself or get out of the house.  That was when I first got a taste of Gabriel’s sense of humour, because when he came along and first heard Castiel yelling at me to leave, he joined in, claiming to have no knowledge of who I was.”  Gabriel chuckled mischievously, and Dean smiled faintly.  He had missed Balthazar and Gabriel’s humour.  They had been so understandably sober over the past months.

“So, I hauled him out the front door, managed to keep a straight face about it too!  By the time I had him on the front porch, he was furious and I was crying with laughter.  You should have seen Cassie’s face when I walked right back in with Balthazar in tow.  I thought he was going to hit me.”  Dean glanced over at Cas and was hit with a sudden longing to hear his laugh and to see his smile.  Surely he would have found humour in the old stories about him.

“Did he ever mention that he liked to dance to the Spice Girls?”  Dean asked quietly, turning back to the three others.  Their eyebrows shot up immediately and they leaned closer and waited for details.  “I came home from getting groceries one day, and I found him blasting the Spice Girls, bouncing and twirling around the living room, _singing along._ ”  Dean grinned at the expressions of disbelief on the others’ faces.  Gabriel and Balthazar were chuckling and Michael was shaking his head with a fond smile on his face.  “He pulled me into the apartment and made me dance with him.  That was actually the day that things got awkward between us.”  Gabriel and Balthazar nodded and smiled knowingly and Michael’s expression turned confused, but Dean didn’t elaborate.  Discussing the memories was painful, and he knew it was just putting off the inevitable thoughts he would have to face as soon as Elizabeth and Charles returned.

They continued to reminisce quietly about Cas quietly, drawing a couple smiles out of each other.  Everyone’s eyes continually drifted back to Cas several times, as if trying to memorise everything about him while they still had time to.

Dean’s heart leapt into his throat when the door to the room opened and Elizabeth, Charles and Garth entered the room.  Formalities were discussed, but they slid right past Dean.  He was suddenly gripped with the lack of time, and he grabbed Cas’ hand tightly with both of his hands.  The temporary bubble of mirth that had pervaded the room popped and left a heavy silence that weighed down on everyone. 

Nobody spoke as the machines were slowly turned off, one by one.  The room seemed unexpectedly silent without the sound of them.  The quiet seemed louder than the machines ever had been.  Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see Charles and Elizabeth clinging to each other.  Michael stood by with a dark expression, his mouth set in a thin line.  Gabriel’s face was blank, staring down at his little brother without a flicker of emotion.  Dean idly recognised the mask.

His attention was focused mainly on Cas, however.  His ears were attuned to the sound of the heart monitor.  Dean had a hold of Cas’ hand with both of his, the fingers of one hand pressed to the inside of Cas’ wrist, holding his breath as he felt the thrum of his heartbeat grow thready.  He wanted to feel the last of Cas’ life, experience the last of him as he slipped away.   His gaze cut across to the window briefly, where he could just glimpse the stars.  The only thing he had insisted upon when he told Charles his decision was that it happen at night.  Somehow, he felt that Cas would have liked that.

Somehow, Dean thought the moment would be bigger, would announce itself in a more noticeable way, but the only things that heralded Cas’ passing was the incessant and sudden noise of his flatline and the disappearance of the weak pulse from beneath Dean’s fingertips.  He kept clinging to the wrist, vaguely aware of Garth quietly calling the time of death.

“10:25pm, Thursday, October 17th.”  Sound faded away from Dean.

He was being pulled away from Cas.

“No.”

Someone kept trying to tug at him, kept trying to get him to let go of Cas.

“No!”

Why couldn’t they just let him hold on for a little longer?

“Stop!”

Cas wasn’t gone, he couldn’t be.  What had he done?

“Let me go!”

He’d killed him.  He had _killed Cas._

“Please, don’t take him away!”

He lost his grip, he couldn’t feel Cas anymore. 

“No!”

His back was against a wall, he couldn’t see anymore.  Someone had their hands over his eyes.

“Cas.”

His hands. His hands over his eyes. Where was he?

“Please, Cas...”

Everything was dark, the stars had gone out, leaving him awash in a moonless, starless oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {BETA NOTE}  
> Hello everyone, this is RexxieConverse, the beta for this story. I saw all of the disappointed and upset comments from the last two days regarding the Archive Warning mishap, and felt that I should be shouldering part of the responsibility for the mistagging. As ChesireMoon mentioned before, this story did not originally intend to end in a character death. It actually was only intended to be a two to three chapter fluff on fluff fic, not the full size emotionally dramatic novel it ended up being! We both equally put off putting the warning when the end was finalized, however, both of us in the mindset of not wanting to spoil the end. One thing that did not cross our minds was that a character death could trigger someone. I can honestly say that never, ever occurred to us. So, I would like to take this time to offer up my apology as well, as it was not the best choice in hindsight. Both ChesireMoon and I have been learning a great deal from this first-time venture, and this note has definitely been one. However, I would please ask that if you still wish to send your concerns about the tagging/warning incident, that you please send them via tumblr, for we both would then be able to answer you personally and not through the more detached means that is a comment. Again, we are truly sorry, and do hope that even if you do not wish to finish this particular story, that you would be willing to even take a passing glance at any future projects. 
> 
> Thank you for your support.
> 
> ChesireMoon – luciespie.tumblr.com  
> RexxieConverse – deducedyoufromperdition.tumblr.com


	28. Swimming in Starlight

**One Week Later**

Dean’s only input about the funeral was that he asked, again, that it happen at night.  The only thing he said on the topic was that he wanted Cas to see the stars one more time, just one last time.  Otherwise, he stayed at the apartment while the funeral arrangements were made by the Novaks.  He felt severely out of place.  He hadn’t slept anywhere except the hospital in six months.  The apartment felt like a strange, hollow place, even with Gabriel and Balthazar in and out.  Dean couldn’t bring himself to sleep in his and Cas’ old bed, so he allowed Gabriel and Balthazar to sleep there while he slept on the couch, if what he did could be considered sleeping.

He hadn’t cried after Castiel had died, though he couldn’t say that he remembered much of the time afterwards either.  He spent his days on the couch, either staring mindlessly at nothing, struggling to keep himself from thinking, or reading and rereading _Little Women_ , as he was still convinced that he might find some essence of Cas hidden within the yellowed pages, hidden away in the deepest words, nestled between the beloved words. 

Gabriel and Balthazar tried to get him to eat, but he simply refused to until Elizabeth finally came over.  She sat silently beside him as he clutched _Little Women_ to his chest, staring down at the floor.  She didn’t try to reprimand him, nor did she try to mother him.  She did put an arm around his waist and drew him close so that his head rested gently upon her shoulder.  He remained stiff at first, but finally, finally, he relaxed into her side, turning to bury his face in her shoulder. 

She held him close and whispered, “I miss him too, Dean.  We all do.  He wouldn’t want you to stop taking care of yourself like this.”  She spoke in a soft, motherly tone that he couldn’t keep from worming its’ way into his heart.  He knew that she was right, that Cas wouldn’t want him to act the way that he was, but he had so little energy, so little motivation to do anything, so little will to live a life without his star.  She coaxed him into eating something at last, but soon after she had to leave. 

The day of the funeral was upon Dean before he was sure that he was ready for it.  He didn’t know what to expect, as he barely remembered his mother’s funeral.  He got dressed in a nice, black long sleeve tee shirt that he remembered Cas liking and dark blue jeans.  Dean was aware that Gabriel and Balthazar were wearing suits, but he was sure that Cas would want him to be comfortable.  Just before they left, Dean paused and retrieved Cas’ trench coat out of the hall closet.  He stared at it for several seconds before slipping into it, the soft fabric reminding him of Cas.   Gabriel and Balthazar watched him, lips turned down at the corner.   He adjusted the little bronze amulet over the dark fabric of his shirt, wrapped the coat around himself and took a deep breath, nodding to the two of them that he was finally ready to go.  Time seemed to blur for Dean from the time they left the apartment to go to the service, to the point that they actually got there.  The only thing that pierced through the veil of his emptiness was the fact that when they arrived, Sam was waiting for him. 

“I’m sorry, I just arrived half an hour ago,” Sam mumbled to him, and Dean nodded mutely.  It barely registered with him that there was a pretty blonde with him, who he idly assumed must have been Jess.  He wished he might have met her under better circumstances.  Gabriel remained at one side of him and Sam remained at the other.  Everyone congregated in front of the open casket.  Lanterns had been set out to light the night so that everyone could see where it was they were going.  A few people filed past Cas’ open casket, and Dean and Gabriel stood at the back of the small line.

Gabriel accompanied Dean right up until a few feet from the coffin.  He stopped, allowing Dean to be alone with Cas one more time.

Dean stared down at Cas without words for several beats of his heart.  It was surreal, looking down at Cas, who looked for all the world like he might have been sleeping, still in his coma, but he wasn’t.  Dean decided right then that he hated likening the dead to the sleeping.  They were dead.  Cas was never going to wake, was never going to open the brilliant blue eyes that Dean could never and would ever forget.  He was never going to smile his quirky little smile that Dean had sworn was always just for him. 

“My star...”  Dean whispered.  He started to shake, his entire body quivering.  There were no tears, no more words.  It was useless to say goodbye, Cas couldn’t hear him, couldn’t see him.

“Dean,” Gabriel murmured, gently wrapping an arm around Dean and pulling him back towards the sea of black behind them.  Gabriel and Sam stood on either side of Dean, each with an arm around him, trying to hold him together. Balthazar was on the other side of Gabriel, their fingers interlocked.  Michael stood beside Charles, who had his arm around both his eldest son and his wife.  Everyone seemed connected in some way or another.

When the pastor started to talk, Dean couldn’t hear him.  The only thing he could hear was the pounding of his heart and shuddering of his own breathing.  He hadn’t expected his numbness to give way with such suddenness.  He had almost been counting on it to keep him stable, but now everything hurt.  Every sound was either too loud or too muted, and the sight of the casket in the light of the lamps was both eerie and painful.  Time lost every ounce of meaning until he felt Gabriel leave his side to go and speak.  Dean glanced up at Gabriel first, and then around at everyone else.  He hadn’t realised how few people had come.  The Novaks, Balthazar, Sam and Jess, obviously were there.  Charlie was standing a few people away from him, dressed in a black sweater and black skinny jeans.  She caught Dean’s eyes and nodded once.  Garth was standing beside her, dressed in a suit that was a little too big for his lanky form.  There were others whom Dean assumed were friends of the family or extended family, but he didn’t know them.

Gabriel started speaking, and though Dean turned his attention back front, he almost wished he couldn’t hear.  “Some people tread the world lightly.  They are not meant to leave marks, scars or footprints in their wake.  Their existence often seems trivial here in a world where everyone seems to be in the business of leaving their mark.  But people like Cassie,” Gabriel’s voice broke and he had to take a moment before he could continue, “People like Cassie are actually the most important.  They are kinder and gentler than the rest of us.  They smile when they have nothing to smile about and heal souls that others have long since given up on.  People like this are like the stars that Cassie loved so much; they shine brightly amongst too much darkness, noticed by those who know to or care to look.  But when their light goes out... It leaves a hole up in the vast sky, a hole noticed only by those who had chosen to look, but a hole that is still noticed nonetheless, a star that is still fiercely missed.”  Gabriel was trying so hard to remain composed, his expression rigid, his jaw working gently.  He seemed more agitated than before, and he laughed without humour, putting a hand over his face. “Cassie was named after the Angel of Thursday, a lesser known seraph-ranked angel. He died on a Thursday. If there is a God, then someone up there has a damn stupid _awful_ sense of humour.  And a damn awful sense of timing.  This star was not meant to go out yet.” Gabriel's hand slid down from his face and in its wake came a fresh shower of tears, his tawnie-gold eyes glazed over.  “This star was not meant to go out yet, and I miss him so much.”  His composure had slipped, and he made his way back to the crowd of black.

Dean expected there to be tears.  He expected to cry, to break down, but there was nothing.  It was as though he was viewing everything from a distance, watching himself from above.  He felt the pain, he couldn’t stop that, but he couldn’t allow himself to release it with tears.  The pastor asked if anyone else wanted to speak on Castiel’s behalf, and without thinking, Dean stepped forward.  Both Gabriel and Sam reached out for him immediately, but he waved them away, making his way to the front.  He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat as best he could, his heart drumming out a steady and uncomfortable tattoo against his ribcage.

Dean stood before everyone, looking around.  All was silent except for a sniffle or two and the sound of people shifting.  All eyes were on him as they waited expectantly.

“I was nothing and had nothing when Cas found me,” Dean began haltingly.  “And frankly, I still am nothing, especially now that he’s gone.”  Dean tried to ignore the flash of pain across Sam’s face.  “I don’t know what I can say about Cas that all of you probably don’t already know, except perhaps to tell you about his dream.  I don’t think he would mind if I told you now.”  He flinched visibly as Cas’ voice rang through his head.  “Cas used to dream of going to see the stars, which I suppose is no surprise.  He told me that he used to dream about swimming amongst the stars.”  Dean couldn’t seem to get his voice to work properly for any length of time.  “And I promised him that I would help him to go see the stars, and I guess this is the closest I’ll ever get to keeping that promise.”  He tilted his head back, looking up at the sky, up at the stars that ripped an innumerable amount of holes into the vast darkness above.  He closed his eyes so he could pretend that he was speaking right to Cas.

“Here we are, my star.  This is the best I can do for you to keep that promise.  This--this--” Dean stuttered, and he had to fold his hands together and take a deep, shuddering breath before he could continue.  “This place, under this sparkling night sky that you loved so much, is to be your final stop before you go home.  I believe that you’re up with the stars now, I believe that you’re up there with all of the others.  And I bet they’re overjoyed to have you.  I always told you that I bet they’d be more than happy to meet my star.”  Dean couldn’t seem to catch his breath suddenly.  He opened his eyes and looked out at the people before him, and caught Sam’s eye pleadingly.  His brother rushed forward, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him back into the sea of black, where he could hide and pretend that he was safe.

Vaguely, he recognised the sounds of crying around him, more sniffles that seemed too loud, almost annoying.  He leaned into his brother’s side, forgetting for a moment it was he who was supposed to be the big, strong brother.  He felt so small.  The sky felt so vast and empty, and Dean felt so incredibly small that felt he might collapse under the weight of it.  He was Atlas, the world was on his shoulders, but he had forgotten how to hold the earth properly.  His back was breaking, but he struggled anyway, forced himself to keep trying because he knew that Cas would want him to.

The pastor spoke a few more words, but again, Dean didn’t hear him.  He was barely aware of anything until it was time to lower the casket into the ground.  Charlie and Garth came to the family before they left.  Charlie immediately moved to embrace Dean, hugging him until it seemed she was trying to crush life back into him.  Garth shook Michael and Charles’ hand, and Charles thanked both Garth and Charlie for taking care of Castiel so faithfully for so long.  There were a few more murmured words, and then they were gone, as was everyone else except Dean, Sam, Jess, Balthazar and the Novaks.  Dean watched them close the casket, and he watched them lower Cas into the ground.  He stood rooted to the spot as they covered him with dirt, and all he could think was that Cas would never see the stars again.  Cas was gone and he would never see the stars again because he was up swimming in them, just as he had always dreamed.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two chapters to go, and they will be posted later tonight/in the wee hours of the morning.


	29. My Angel, My Star

**One Year Later**

“Are you sure about this, Dean?”  Gabriel asked yet again.  Dean had been staring out the passenger side window silently for over an hour, almost completely unresponsive. 

For the first couple of months after Cas’ funeral, Dean had stayed in Fairbanks with the Novaks.  Gabriel and Balthazar often found a way to manage their businesses from the house so they could remain nearby during those months.  Dean didn’t do much in that time.  He wandered the halls of the house, seemingly lost, his expression blank or confused, as if he had misplaced something vital.  Eventually, Dean had returned to Anchorage, returning to work for Bobby, which helped him to tear his mind away from all of the memories and thoughts that threatened to drown him at first.  Oftentimes, one of the Novaks came to visit him, or he would drive up to Fairbanks in the truck Bobby let him use.  Bobby looked after him as best he could, and Charlie stopped by quite often to see him.  She would sometimes bring movies or games, or occasionally she would drag him to the diner. He was glad for the company, but mostly, however, he kept to himself. 

On the surface, it seemed to everyone as though Dean was actually slowly beginning to move on and heal.  The truth of it was that Dean remained broken.  He barely ate and rarely slept.  When he did sleep, when he didn’t dream of Cas, he woke in a cold sweat from some nightmare that he couldn’t seem to remember.  He moved through the days as though he was a dreamwalker, shunning any thoughts that might tear down the fragile walls he’d built around himself.  He managed to smile and appear cheerful around others, but his expression remained mostly blank and lifeless when he was alone.  He couldn’t find a reason to muster up the energy to pretend when he was on his own.

Dean’s most recent visit to Anchorage had been more subdued than the other visits, though it was of little surprise.  It had been a year since Castiel had died.  Everyone in the house kept an eye on Dean, unsure how he would react.  One or more members of the family tried to stay with him, tried to keep him occupied, even if the activity was as trivial as going for a walk.  They all cared for him, and he had truly been accepted into the family rather seamlessly.  Never once did he feel out of place.

Dean had raised the question of going to visit Cas’ grave very quietly one evening, after everyone except Dean and Gabriel had gone upstairs to go to bed.  The request had caught Gabriel off guard and he didn’t answer straight away. 

“I’m asking you because you were always there for me while I was with Cas, and I know I can count on you the most,” Dean murmured.  “I’m sorry I was so selfish and didn’t remember that you were suffering too, having to watch your brother dying, but I want you to know that I noticed how much you were there for me.”  There was very little inflection to Dean’s voice at first, a distinct distance to his eyes as he stared into the flickering, dancing flames in the fireplace.

“I should have gone to visit Cas before, he’s been right there, but...”  He trailed off a moment, trying to find the right words.  “But I was afraid to go alone.  I’m still scared, but I need to see him,” he admitted quietly. 

And so he and Gabriel were on their way to see Cas.  “Yes, I’m sure about this.  I can’t put it off anymore, Gabriel,” Dean answered at last.  The mostly empty highway passed before his eyes, and he couldn’t help but feel that with every mile, he was coming closer to _something_.  All he knew just then was that first the first time in a year, his heart was beating out of rhythm and there was a lump in his throat that he had to swallow past. 

Trying to distract himself, Dean tried to track the flight of the millions of snowflakes that drifted idly past the windshield.  His eyes flicked to and fro, snagging onto one flake before jumping to another.  It was enough to distract him for the remainder of the ride, and before he knew it, Gabriel was pulling up to the cemetery.  Dean froze suddenly, his muscles locking up.  Gabriel turned the car off, but didn’t move to get out of the car just yet.  He looked across to Dean, who was steadfastly staring straight ahead.  For the first time in a year, he felt the distinct burn of imminent tears behind his eyes, but he held them back. 

“Are you ready, Dean?”  Gabriel asked softly, reaching across to touch Dean’s shoulder, startling him out of his frozen state.  Dean turned, green eyes seemingly calm, but Gabriel could see the turmoil beneath.  Dean nodded once and got out of the car. He stood by the side of the car, snow drifting down around him.  There was that peculiar muted silence that came with a blanket of snow, one that captured and muted all sound.  The cemetery was empty except for Dean, Gabriel and the gravestones that stood out of the snow like silent and ageless watchers.  Despite the year that had passed, Dean remembered precisely where Cas’ grave was.  He slowly made his way through the sea of grey and white, his feet throwing up little flurries of snow that danced along the edge of the trench coat he wore.  He’d made a habit of wearing Cas’ coat, as if some small part of his soul remained in the folds of the old thing.  He saw the polished headstone before he actually reached it, and his footsteps stuttered slightly.

Gabriel watched him closely, unsure what Dean’s reaction to finally visiting Cas’ grave might be.  His face was too blank, his steps too unsteady, and Gabriel could see that the carefully constructed mask was beginning to slip.  He recognised the signs, so he remained close, ready to catch Dean should he fall.  They came to the stone, and Gabriel stopped a little bit away.  He had visited Cas several times over the course of the year, and he wanted to give Dean time to be alone with him, if need be.  Dean stood before Cas’ grave, looking down at the inscription, eyes tracing the curve of each letter.

He let himself fall softly to his knees, his hand going to his throat where the amulet Cas had given him rested against his chest.  Not once in the year since Cas had been gone had Dean taken the necklace off.  He cradled it in his hand often, staring down at the odd bronze idol, letting memories wash over him.  Now he just held it, letting the cold metal grow warm against the palm of his hand.  As Dean knelt there in the snow, all he could muster up in thoughts and feelings was a deep desire to burrow beneath the frozen earth.  He wanted to lie next to Cas again, wanted to wrap his arms around Cas and pull a blanket of snow up to their chins.  Dean wanted to lay at Cas’ side for an eternity, safe in the knowledge that when he closed his eyes it wouldn’t hurt anymore.

Gabriel held his ground, watching Dean.  He’d done his mourning in his own time, as was his way, but he was afraid for Dean.  The man that his little brother had brought with him home for Christmas was gone, and in his place had been left a broken, empty shell.  Gabriel couldn’t remember seeing Dean cry once in the year since Castiel’s death.  It seemed unnatural, but no matter what anyone said to him, he persisted in forcing himself to smile hollowly every day, masquerading himself as someone who was whole and utterly unbroken.  It was a fragile illusion that Dean had just barely been able to hold together each passing day, but he had actively worked to keep it up, if nothing else than for his own personal sanity.  Gabriel couldn’t tell what Dean was thinking as he knelt at the grave.  His expression was completely unreadable.  Gabriel never suspected that instead of goodbyes and laments, a song was weaving its way through Dean’s mind.

The song Cas had sung to Dean when Dean had been broken and most in need of healing danced through Dean’s mind, a slow and mournful dance.  He opened his mouth to finally say goodbye, but instead he found himself roughly, brokenly beginning to sing, his mind supplying both the words he would sing and the words he could not bring himself to voice.  Cas seemed to sing along with him in the back of his mind, the memory vague, though it was apparent that the meaning behind the words each time were vastly different.

 

“Look at what’s happened to me.”

_Look at how broken I am Cas.  Look at how empty I am.  Look at the way I live without living.  Look at what I’ve become._

“I can’t believe it myself.”

_How is it that you’re gone, Cas?  How could you possibly be gone?  I still don’t understand, I still don’t understand!_

 

Gabriel leaned close to hear what it was Dean was saying, or rather what he was singing, unable to catch the quiet words just at first.  He took a single step forward, the snow muffling any sound his foot might have made.

 

“Suddenly I’m up on top of the world.”

_I’m alone up here.  It’s cold, and I’m alone, and I look and see the rest of the world, but I can’t reach them, Cas._

 

Gabriel froze, his heart skipping a beat as recognition violently slammed into him.  Castiel’s lullaby.  The song Gabriel would sing to his little brother if he had a bad day, or if he’d woken from a nightmare.  The song had always calmed him, though he never understood why.  He hadn’t had the occasion to sing it to him in so long, but he would recognise the lyrics and the melody of it anywhere, even in Dean’s broken voice.

 

“Should’ve been somebody else.”

_Anybody.  Me, a stranger, somebody.  It should have been anyone but you._

“Believe it or not, I’m walking on air.”

_There’s nothing beneath me, I’m falling, I’m falling..._

 

Slow, hot tears flowed down Gabriel’s cheeks.  He wanted to step forward, carefully kneel down, to embrace Dean and sing with him but he was frozen in place.  His legs refused to move.  He’d thought he was done mourning, but to hear his baby brother’s lullaby again, from the mouth of the one person who might have loved Castiel as much as Gabriel did stirred Gabriel’s broken heart to ache once again.

 

“I never thought I could feel so free.”

_I never thought I could feel as free as I was with you, but now it’s gone and I’m bound to myself, Cas._

“Flying on a wing and a prayer.”

_I’m barely staying afloat, barely moving forward.  It’s a miracle I’m still pushing on._

 

A desperate but quiet sob escaped Gabriel’s throat, his grief knocking down the careful walls he’d built to keep it under control.  Dean didn’t even flinch at the sound.  Gabriel’s legs gave out and he was falling, his knees finding the snow, his hands clasping together in an attempt to keep them from shaking.

 

“Who could it be?”

_Who is it?  Who’s left?_

“Believe it or not, it’s just me.”

_I’m alone.  I’m all alone, you left me alone and now it’s just me.  I’m alone._

 

Dean’s head was in his hands, tears running down his face, first by ones, and then in seemingly unstoppable torrents.  He finally cried, finally let himself grieve.  Now that he’d finally allowed himself to cry, he couldn’t seem to stop, couldn’t seem to stop the tears from coming.  He let go of the mask, he let it fall, and it shattered.  His grief was so sudden, his tears so constant, his sobs so broken that he could barely manage to gasp out the last line to the song.  As he stuttered it out, he ripped the amulet Cas had given him from around his neck and dropped it into the snow in front of the grave, where it sank slightly, leaving a little indent.

 

“Believe it or not, it’s just me.”


	30. Fall Back Into Your Blazing Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {AUTHOR GOODBYE}  
> I want to just drop a short note to thank all of you for following me on this journey, despite how rough it has been here near the end. Here is the end of Dean and Castiel's story, though I'm sure it wasn't the one that any of us were expecting.
> 
> If you want, you can find me @ sammylied.tumblr.com

Dean woke with a start, his heart beating fast as he tried to fend off the vivid dream, shivering against the cold of the alley. It had seemed so real, every detail had been so convincing, and yet he couldn't seem to recapture the mind-induced imagery. It slipped away from him completely. He turned on his side, blinking slowly. He knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, so he pushed himself into a sitting position. Somehow, the newspaper he had been sleeping under had remained dry, as it seemed that there had been no rain while he slept. A small blessing, but an appreciated one. He glanced up at the stars as he pondered his rare luck, lightly shivering now and then. The stars twinkled, shining brightly and cheerfully.

He began to fold up the newspaper, which featured a full page obituary about an unfortunate fatal car crash involving a blue-eyed aspiring astrophysicist named Castiel Novak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {BETA READER NOTE}  
> Heh. Weren’t expecting that one, were you? And, is that prolonged sobbing I hear? Don’t worry, I was continually sobbing through the ending arc of the story while editing. Anyways, I would like to thank all of the readers who have supported CheshireMoon so far, she deserves all of the praise and adulations she can get for her terrific writing talent. I am beyond honoured to have been asked to be the beta for this tale, and even more honoured to be the bondmate of said author! I also had quite a bit of fun coming up with chapter titles, if any of you noticed them. Hope you all have enjoyed this star-crossed journey as much as I have, for A Home Beneath the Stars will always be more than a fanfiction to me, it is something that will forever churn around in the galaxies of my inner thought. Well, I shall see you all when the next tale comes around, until then! I shall leave you with a playlist~
> 
> http://8tracks.com/conversingconverse/a-home-beneath-the-stars


	31. The Story Continues...

_Hello everyone!  It's been about a year since I started writing this fic, and I am so touched and amazed by the response it has gotten thus far.  A few months ago, I got the idea for a sequel to A Home Beneath the Stars.  A surreal and somewhat happy way to bring more closure to Dean and Castiel's story.  As of today, I have posted the first chapter of the sequel, which I have titled, 'Chaos of the Stars.'  This story takes place a year after the events of the first fic, and I'm very excited to finally begin sharing it with you.  I cannot say how quickly updates will go up, but I shall try to be as swift with it as I was with the original fic!  As always, your comments are very, very much appreciated.  In fact, they are excellent fuel for the fire of inspiration that I try to keep burning at all times._

_This is still for you.  You know who you are._

[Link to the Sequel.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3297581/chapters/7199699)

[Want to contact me?](sammylied.tumblr.com)


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